by Jane Carnall
paraquel to an idea by Julie Kramer
The other Spock stepped towards him, inevitable, menacing. Never thought of Spock as dangerous before, McCoy found himself thinking as he retreated. Must be the beard.... As Spock touched his face, McCoy felt the tendrils of alien thought probing into his mind.
Mindmatch. The unknown word came unbidden into his mind.
For one eternal moment, McCoy could think of nothing else.
Then; relief from a dread so encompassing he had not known it could exist; from a dread of something McCoy could not understand. Mindmatch.
He felt as if his mind was burning, and could feel the effort it took for the alien mind to detach itself, seeing for an instant his own face, looking up at him, pale and human, afraid and trying not to show it, out of the other's eyes; and then could see out of his own eyes again.
The Vulcan looked down at him, grim and bearded, appearing preoccupied with thoughts and memories.
The transporter flared. The four strangers vanished... ...reappeared.
Kirk stepped off the platform with a broad grin of relief. Uhura and Scott followed him, clearly both greatly relieved to be back. McCoy followed, hoping no one would notice his silence.
Spock was standing beside the console, and McCoy gave him a wide berth as he left the transporter room. He knew, logically, that it had not been this Spock who had invaded his mind. Emotionally was a different matter. He was terrified of letting Spock near him.
=@=@=
Kirk noticed, after a few days. The Enterprise was on her way to Starbase 12, a peaceful milkrun with plenty of time for Kirk to notice things like McCoy never turning up on the bridge any more. Not that the Chief Medical Officer was supposed to turn up on the bridge as regularly as McCoy did, or had.
He dropped in on McCoy just after his watch was over, and found him finishing off some paperwork. McCoy looked up as Kirk came in, and, after a moment, smiled. "Wait five minutes and I'll have this finished, Jim."
He set down his stylus and looked at Kirk. "Anything you wanted to talk about?"
"Have you had a lot of paperwork, the past few days?"
"No more than usual," McCoy said casually. "As a matter of fact, I'm ahead of myself at the moment. Was that all you wanted to talk to me about?"
"I wanted to know why you've been avoiding the bridge."
McCoy looked blank. "Was I supposed to be up there? As far as I know the Chief Medical Officer has no bridge duty."
"No, but you do have bridge privileges, and up to recently, you've used them! But I don't remember seeing you on the bridge since... since before we got back from that mi__o_ universe."
McCoy's face, always expressive, froze. After one cold instant, he said quietly, "Oh yes. Well, I thought I'd better keep my nose to the grindstone in future. Was that all?"
Kirk, looking at the chilly blue eyes, gave up.
He mentioned the conversation casually to Spock, the next day, as they both left the bridge at change of watch. He had no expectation that his First Officer would consider it any of his business to do anything about it, but he could be absolutely certain that if anyone could outfreeze McCoy, it was Spock. The irresistible force and the immovable object, he thought cheerfully on his way to the rec room. If only I could be there to see....
=@=@=
McCoy's watch was over, and according to the computer he was in his cabin. Spock thought it unlikely that he was asleep yet. He pressed the door signal.
The human opened the door moments later. "What is it?" he snapped, and then, "Oh, it's you. Anything too urgent to wait till tomorrow?"
"It could," Spock said with perfect composure, "but I do not anticipate that it will take long. May I come in?"
Ungraciously, McCoy stood aside from the entrance. "What is it, then?"
The door closed behind Spock. "The Captain mentioned his conversation with you of yesterday."
"Oh, he did, did he?" McCoy retreated to the chair he'd been sitting in when Spock signalled, but remained on his feet. He wanted all the leverage he could get. Abstractly, he noted that his hands were shaking. "And is my absence from the bridge a sufficiently logical reason for you to come pester me in my own quarters in my own time?"
"Certainly your absence from the bridge is not," Spock agreed. "However, given the parameters of your behaviour, it would seem a logical possibility that you are not specifically avoiding the bridge but a certain bridge officer. That officer could be Mr Sulu, Mr Chekov, Mr Riley -- or myself."
"Why don't you tell me how you worked that one out," McCoy demanded, his eyes suddenly very blue.
"Your behaviour patterns have changed thus only since your return from the alternate universe you visited. The four members of the bridge crew who did not enter the other universe with you were myself, Lieutenants Sulu and Riley, and Ensign Chekov. Given the behaviour of those who crossed over into this universe, I hypothesised that one of their counterparts might have done something which makes you unwilling to face them even in another universe." Spock folded his hands behind his back. "I would appreciate it if you would confirm the truth or falsity of my hypothesis."
"Would you now."
"And if my further hypothesis, that my counterpart was the one you cannot bear to meet, is also correct."
McCoy's shoulders slumped, but his eyes were still bright. "Mr Spock, I don't see what the hell business it is of yours."
"If it affects the smooth running of the ship, it is my concern. And clearly, if the Chief Medical Officer and the First Officer cannot work together, something must be done to remedy it."
McCoy did sit down at last. He buried his face in his hands and sighed heavily. Spock, watching, lifted an eyebrow. When the human finally lifted his face and spoke, his accent was strong and harsh. "Forget it, Spock. You're right. I can't work with you. I'm goin' to apply for a transfer, as soon as I can."
"That would seem a somewhat drastic form of action, Doctor."
The human shrugged. "There isn't an alternative."
"I could request transfer."
McCoy stood up abruptly, his expressive eyes reflecting shock. "No, you bloody can't! It'd wreck your promotion chances, for one thing, and for another, you're more necessary here than I am."
Spock lifted an eyebrow. "I have no particular desire for promotion, as you must know. It would be illogical to deem myself irreplacable; and you and the Captain have served together for longer than I have served with either of you. It would seem reasonable that I should be the one to leave, if you can see no other solution to your aversion." He had moved a few steps closer, pacing thoughtfully.
"I'm the one who's causing -- " McCoy's voice cracked in the middle of the sentence, and he flinched back from Spock. The Vulcan turned sharply.
"Fear, Doctor McCoy?"
"Oh, gods." He knew he was shaking, tried to control it, couldn't. "Oh, gods, Spock, I'm sorry. I can't -- it's only -- "
"You need not answer this question," Spock said without inflection. "What did my counterpart do to induce in you such a state of fear?"
McCoy clenched his hands together. "He -- he forced a mindmeld. He wanted to know why the Captain and Uhura and Scott -- and me -- were behaving... oddly. I -- was the one he found."
"I see." Spock was pacing, hands clasped behind his back, deliberately not looking at the human. "I need hardly say that to me, the forcing of a mindmeld is possibly the most reprehensible action a Vulcan could commit? And that it is not an action that I would ever, under any circumstances and no matter what my need, commit myself?"
"I do -- know that," McCoy said with an effort at control. "But it doesn't make any difference. I still can't -- "
"I offer another solution," Spock said, when it was clear McCoy was not going to finish. "You need not accept it." He had stopped pacing, and was standing in front of McCoy, just out of reach. The human looked up. Spock was holding out his hand, his fingers spread in the seeking pattern of the meld.
McCoy flinched back.
Spock waited, not pushing.
"Spock, it wasn't -- it wasn't just the meld. It hurt -- it burnt. I can still feel it burning...."
"In that case, I most seriously recommend that you see a telepathic Healer as soon as possible," Spock said crisply. "If you cannot trust me, then find someone you can trust, and soon. Damage from a forced meld can be very dangerous."
The human stared up at him, and then, clumsily, pushed himself to his feet. "I trust you, Spock," he said quietly. "Go on."
With only one flickered eyebrow of surprise, Spock set his hands on McCoy's face and paused, reading the surface emotions. Fear surged there, beating against a fragile wall of trust and faith in him based on memory; Spock gathered himself and slid gently in, past the fragile first defenses, striving not to injure.
Mindmatch.
Two halves of one whole.
But the mind was injured; a forced meld had burnt out pathways necessary for a deep bond. Spock was aware of a building, gathering rage, for something perfect and irreplacable smashed and lost forever. Delicately, gentle in his fury, he disengaged.
The human was swaying, dazed and white with pain and confusion. Spock slid an arm around his shoulders, eased him down to the chair, and went to program a drink. McCoy accepted the glass and drank, almost childishly, then looked startled. "It's got a hell of a kick -- "
"Telar wine," Spock said dryly. "I discovered recently that someone had added the elements necessary to synthesise it. It is not usually so easily obtainable, off Vulcan; the fruit that produces it is only grown in one small area, to the south of the Mountains of Pauyaan. I went there once, when I was nine, with my grandmother's bondmate." It did not matter what he said, McCoy was not capable of listening. Like taming a wild sehlat cub, it mattered only that he should talk, evenly, levelly, as McCoy was accustomed to hear him talk. He wanted to say other things, but that must wait.
"My head hurts," McCoy said at last. "But not as badly as it did before."
Spock gave a brief nod. "I am not a properly trained Healer, but there appears to be no serious damage done, so far as you are concerned." The odd turn of phrase made McCoy look up, but Spock looked as calm and withdrawn as ever. "I would recommend, however, that you visit a Vulcan Healer next time the Enterprise goes there. T'Laye of the Vulcan Academy has an excellent reputation, and would probably consent to see you."
"Thanks. Spock -- "
A lifted eyebrow as the Vulcan, half-turned to go, swung back. "What does 'mindmatch' mean?"
"Why do you ask?"
"He -- the other -- seemed to be thinking about the word. And so were you."
"It is the reason why I should leave the Enterprise, Doctor," Spock said, aloof and distant. "You and I are mindmatched; I can perceive how easily a bond could be formed. Such ease is dangerous to you; the damage to your mind is in the pathways necessary to a deep permanent bond. A second forced meld might well threaten your sanity, and conceivably your life."
He was gone, the door sliding shut behind him. McCoy stared at the blank white metal, confused and worried.
=@=@=
Understanding came to McCoy just eighteen hours later. He was standing in the middle of sickbay, skimming through a list of dietary supplements for the nonhuman members of the crew, when it suddenly hit him what Spock had meant. Coming back to himself, moments later, he realised he was standing stock still, clutching the scrumpled list in one hand, cursing steadily under his breath, and Chris Chapel was looking at him rather oddly.
"Sorry, Chris. Where was I... oh yes, Spock's amino acid slop. For gods sake, there must be a more interesting vegan supplement somewhere in the galaxy." This had been his usual remark for the past two years when referring to the bland paste he had designed to supplement the three rare amino acids necessary to Spock's health. Chapel ignored it.
"Leonard, are you all right?"
"I just worked something out," McCoy said grimly. "Let's finish this list off. Oh yes, Hazarstennaj. She's trying it on -- fresh vanahi-meat is a luxury item, not a health necessity. And confirm Aristeides' need for heavy-fruit -- I'm not sure about that one. Anything else?"
Chapel shook her head.
"Then I'll take my break now."
Spock was currently on the same shift as him. He contacted the bridge. "Mr Spock, I'd like to have a word with you. Now."
"Is this really necessary, Doctor McCoy?"
"Yes. Take your break now and I'll see you in my office in five minutes."
=@=@=
"Sit down, Spock. I just worked it out."
Spock sat, folding his hands before him. "Doctor McCoy, I am due back on the bridge in twenty minutes. Please say what you want to say concisely."
"Pon farr. Next year. You're due then, aren't you?"
Spock lifted one eyebrow.
"For gods' sake, Spock, don't give me that look of outraged Vulcan modesty. That's the reason you want to leave; because you're afraid that if you enter pon farr and I'm within range, you'll attack me, with this mindmatch business?"
"Emotionally stated," Spock said evenly, "but essentially correct."
"I want you to promise me something."
"Well?"
"Don't leave the ship yet. I'll go to this Healer -- Starbase Twelve is within shouting-range of Vulcan, and I've ten days of leave accumulated. The Enterprise will probably be docked there for longer than that. I want you to promise me you won't apply for transfer until I come back and we can talk about it properly."
"Why do you see any necessity for further discussion?" Spock enquired, honestly baffled. "It is surely obvious that either I or you should leave the ship, and I have already explained to you the logical reasoning why it should be I who leaves."
"Logical!" McCoy practically spat. "That wasn't logic, Spock, that was your excuse for running away. I'm damned if I'm going to let you run away from me. If you apply for transfer while I'm gone, I swear, I'll transfer to the same ship. You're not getting away from me."
Spock's eyebrows flew up. "Very well, Doctor McCoy. I give you my word I will not apply for transfer until you return from Vulcan. Now, if you have quite finished displaying your emotions, I will return to my duties."
=@=@=
The younger Vulcan came back into the room where McCoy sat waiting. It was hot outside, but in the centre of this room with walls of white stone, a fountain of water rose and fell in a basin of a green metal, cooling the air. The benches were of the same stone as the wall. It seemed to be typical of Vulcan; detailed attention to the comfort of visitors and a complete disregard of such things as seats hard enough to wear your behind out.
"T'Laye will see you, Mak'khoi. Follow me."
She lifted the heavy curtain aside for him and then led him down a long hall of the same white stone, a narrow stream of water running in a channel down one side. Plants were set over the water at regular intervals. On the other side of the hallway, curtains cut of the same heavy cloth were hung at equally symmetrical intervals, presumably leading to other rooms. It was completely silent.
The young Vulcan halted in front of the fifth curtain along, putting out a hand to draw it aside for McCoy.
"Enter." The voice had come from inside the room; trying not to cross his fingers, McCoy went in.
He was not sure what he had expected. In the middle of the floor, two circular steps went down, and were piled with cushions. Sitting facing him was a woman who could have been eighty and might have been a hundred and fifty. Her hair was cut neatly short and was beginning to go grey; her grey eyes, a rare colour among Vulcans, had wisdom and judgement.
"I am T'Laye. Sit down, McCoy. I have agreed to see you, I tell you at the start, only because T'Pau's grandchild has asked it. Explain to me why a human wishes to see a Vulcan Healer." She glared at him. "And sit down."
Glancing around him, McCoy seated himself on a convenient cushion. The room was pleasantly proportioned, a fountain playing in the opposite wall with a low sound of plashing water. In the centre of the lefthand wall was a long slab of gray smooth stone, similiar to that in Spock's cabin. On the righthand wall, a sculpture of translucent glass, that drew and soothed the eye. Behind him a single flame burned in a clay jar, glazed in red and black.
"The four elements," he said abruptly, suddenly realising. "Water, earth, air, and fire."
"This is a room of balance, where the healers and the healed may meditate to gain understanding," T'Laye said with one flickered eyebrow. "It will not be in use today, so I requested it to meet you here. Why do you wish to meet me?"
"I have a problem. Spock seemed to think you could help me."
"So much is self-evident. Why have you come to a Vulcan healer rather than to a healer of your own kind?"
McCoy rubbed his face. "A mindmeld was forced on me, nearly twenty-three days Terran ago, and according to Spock my mind was injured in the meld. I feel... burnt."
"Are you yourself a telepath?"
"No."
"Have you perceived any change in your mind's functioning since the forced meld occurred?"
"No... no, not really."
"Is the sensation of fire more, or less noticable now than ten days ago?"
"Less, I think. Yes, less."
"Then I do not think that you need me. I will, if you consent, look within your mind, but if you are not a telepath the damage will almost certainly not affect you in any important manner."
"There's -- " McCoy started, but she shook her head.
"I wish to look at your mind. Will you give me consent?"
"Yes," McCoy nodded. "But -- "
"You have something to add?"
"Spock said that the paths necessary for a deep meld had been burnt out."
She raised an eyebrow.
"We're mindmatched."
"Are you attempting to inform me, in this illogical and roundabout fashion, that you and T'Pau's grandson are intending to bond?"
"Well, he hasn't actually asked me yet..."
"Very well. Thank you for informing me." She reached out with one cupped hand to touch his face, and slipped through.
A brief time later, she withdrew, and sat with steepled fingers contemplating McCoy. "Are you certain you wish to bond?"
"Yes."
"And I gather that T'Pau has not been informed yet?"
"No."
T'Laye raised both eyebrows. "Indeed. Well, McCoy, I will have to repattern and restructure the cellular tissue of the nerve pathways. This will require a drastic change of diet, several hours of meditation each day, and long, and sometimes painful, mindmelds. I calculate that the restructuring will take seven days to complete. Are you prepared to remain here for that length of time?"
"Yes -- I have nine days of leave left, and the Enterprise won't leave Starbase 12 for at least twelve."
"Very well. I will ask an apprentice Healer to find you a room. I will see you again this evening for the first mindmeld."
It was a dismissal; McCoy got to his feet and pushed through the door-curtain.
=@=@=
"I want to see you in my office now, Mr Spock."
"In ten minutes, Doctor."
"Thank you, Mr Spock."
McCoy pulled down the shutters, cutting his small office off from the rest of sickbay, pushed T'Laye's apprentice's final report on him forward on the desk, and sank back in his chair. He suppressed the impulse to grin cheerfully at Spock as the Vulcan came in, and suggested instead, "Why don't you lock the door and sit down, Spock?"
The Vulcan complied, raising an eyebrow at the report.
"It's in Vulcan," McCoy said chattily. "I was given a translation. Would you like to read it?"
Spock lifted the papers up from the desk and began to scan through them. By the third paragraph, he had lifted an eyebrow. By the second page, both his eyebrows had hit his hairline. By the conclusion, his face was set in stone.
"Doctor McCoy, why did you give T'Laye the impression that I sent you to her in order that you might be healed for a bond with me?"
"I didn't," McCoy said, repressing another grin. "I told her that that was why I wanted to be healed."
"You take much on yourself, Doctor."
"I know." McCoy beamed at him. "You haven't even asked me yet. Or do I ask you?"
Spock steepled his fingers and contemplated him in silence for what felt like a very long time. "It would be illogical to do either, Doctor. We are incompatible."
"We're mindmatched."
"That does not mean that any relationship between us would be smooth. We disagree on almost every point."
"So? It'll give us something to talk about on long winter evenings."
"Vulcan has no long winter evenings."
"Whenever. Spock, I'm used to arguing with you. Hell, I knew I was in trouble with Joanna when we stopped arguing."
"That is another matter. Your... former bondmate and parent of your child has prior claim to you."
"So call her up," McCoy said, exasperated, "and ask her to relinquish her claim. She doesn't think she has one."
"There is also the matter of my family, and yours. My mother succeeded in making a place for herself on Vulcan, and in making peace with her Terran people, but it took her twenty years, and she is considerably more practiced in diplomacy than you are."
"I don't know about you, Spock, but I was planning another twenty years in Starfleet before I think about the next thing. That should give everyone time to stop snorgling." McCoy reached out his hands across the desk, but did not touch Spock. "Look -- do you want to bond with me? Are you just finding reasons because you can't stand the idea? I'd like to -- if you would?"
"I should return to the bridge," Spock said at last. "We can discuss this in more detail later."
=@=@=
"Jim, can I see you?"
"Do you need your eyes tested, Bones? No, I'm not busy, come in." He had been sitting reading his latest acquisition -- a 20th century novel in its original hardback binding. Not a first edition, but it was interesting even if not valuable. He made a long arm for the cupboard with the Saurian brandy, but McCoy put out a hand in negation as he sat down opposite Kirk.
"Nothing for me. I want to talk."
Kirk shrugged, sliding a genuine 21st century bookmark between the pages and closing the book. Despite McCoy's claim that he wanted to talk, he had fallen completely silent. "How was your leave? Where'd you go?"
"Vulcan."
"Have you suddenly taken up cactus-growing, or something, as a hobby? That's almost the last place I'd think you'd go on leave!"
"I didn't want to get Starfleet involved, so I didn't claim it as sick leave," McCoy admitted, "but I spent most of my time with a healer, and most of the rest of it sleeping."
"A healer -- ? Bones, is there something wrong?"
"No, not any more. You remember the way I was behaving when I came back from that Mirror universe?"
Kirk nodded.
"Well, it was because the Spock in that universe had forced a mind-meld on me. Spock -- our Spock -- suggested I visit a healer to sort me out, and even recommended one."
"So it's all sorted out now," Kirk said with satisfaction. "Or is it? Bones, what is this conversation leading to?"
"I want to bond with Spock."
"You what?"
""Do you need your ears tested, Jim?"
"No, I heard you. Why? You've been arguing with him almost nonstop ever since you met!"
"Well, I've always been attracted to him, but it wasn't a relationship I could see any future in, so I sublimated it. Besides, I like arguing. So does he, I think."
"Bones -- " How to say it? "You were a happily married man."
"Why do you think I got divorced? I've never been all that attracted to women, though I can function with both sexes, as everybody can."
"Yes -- but why Spock?"
McCoy grinned. "He's intelligent, charming when he wants to be, in some ways very childlike -- "
"Childlike...?"
"I'm a frustrated mother," McCoy snapped. "He's a very attractive man -- you must have noticed."
"Noticed! I have trouble keeping my hands off him -- but I'd always assumed that a Vulcan, and especially my first officer, was offlimits. Anyway, I'm certain Spock wouldn't appreciate a casual affair." There was a warning note in the last words, that McCoy picked up.
"That's not what I'm offering him."
Kirk sighed. "Look, if it was anybody else, I'd be transferring them off the ship by this time to protect Spock. I don't want him hurt. Since it's you, I'm torn between trying to protect Spock from you and you, from Spock -- I don't want either of you hurt. So just what are you offering him, and what does he want?"
McCoy's blue eyes met his. "I'm offering him anything he wants, on any terms he wants, just so long as I can be near him."
"A full bonding? With everything that implies?"
"How would you know about a full bonding?"
"I looked it up. Never mind why. Are you sure that's what you want?"
Steadily, McCoy nodded.
"And what does Spock want?"
"That's what I want you to find out."
"You want me to what?"
"You heard me...."
=@=@=
But Spock contacted Kirk first. A message on his private com the next day, requesting an interview, evidently on formal terms, since he called Kirk "Captain".
Kirk groaned, reached for the com, and called Spock to his cabin.
"Come in. What is it?"
Spock folded his hands behind his back. "Captain, I have come to offer my resignation."
"Stuff it. Sit down. What did you really come to talk to me about?"
"My resignation -- " said Spock, sitting down.
"Every single time you've come to offer me your resignation, it's meant that there's something you want to talk to me about. So what is it this time?"
"Doctor McCoy and I are having personality clashes."
"Yes, for the past three years, what's new?"
"I believe that there is now no point in continuing to work together since Doctor McCoy has made his feelings clear."
"You mean since he offered to marry you?"
Kirk kept his eyes on Spock's face; the Vulcan's expression did not change in the slightest, but there was a very, very long pause. "Affirmative."
"If you don't want to, Spock, knowing Bones a simple 'No thank you' will suffice, and he'll never bother you again."
There was another pause. "It is not so much that I do not want to, Jim, as it would be too much to ask."
"Of him? Or of you?"
"I do not know," Spock said honestly. "For Doctor McCoy, of course..."
Kirk waited for him to finish the sentence. When it was clear he was not going to, he said gently, "Why not tell me what you feel for him, Spock?"
Spock lifted an eyebrow.
Kirk overrode him. "And don't tell me that Vulcans don't have feelings."
Spock was silent for a while, sitting austerely upright with a look of concentration on his face. Kirk watched him with affection.
"He is a man of great charm and grace," Spock said finally. "His compassion and caring, although often outstripping his common sense, are of great value. And I have never felt threatened by our arguments."
"Could you spend the rest of your life with him? As a lover?"
"We are mind-matched. I could never find anyone as compatible as he is, but I do not know if I could offer him what he needs."
"Wouldn't it be worth trying?"
"It could only be the lifebond... or nothing at all."
=@=@=
McCoy caught up with Kirk in an empty stretch of corridor. "Did you talk to Spock?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
Kirk swung round and looked at him. "Go ask him yourself. There are limits to a starship captain's duties -- I'll talk to him all you like, but the courtship's up to you!"
=@=@=
There was a knock on the door. "Come in," McCoy called, turning to face the entrance.
Spock stood just inside the door, as impassive as usual.
"Come on in and sit down. Would you like something to drink?"
Spock shook his head.
"Is it about -- what we talked about yesterday?"
The Vulcan nodded, walked over to the table, and drew back a chair. McCoy dropped into the one opposite; Spock sat down. He had intended to open the subject, but found, his eyes on McCoy's face, that he could say nothing. He was leaning a little across the table, this stubborn, argumentative, illogical human, warm with life. His hands, gentle, subtle, strong; surgeon's hands. His eyes, blue; clear and candid. His remarkably expressive mouth.... And his mind, strength and kindness and gentleness, his Healer's mind.
"It won't work."
"I could try."
"I do not know what I could offer you."
"Tell me."
"To bond with a human would necessitate appropriate emotional responses. I have no idea if I could supply them."
"Spock -- " McCoy started, then stopped, looking at him. "Damn it, Spock, after all these years I'd think you could trust me to understand your limitations. I'm not stupid. From what I understand of the bonding, I'd know what you were feeling, regardless of what you did, or said."
"You do not know me," Spock said at last, the old ritual words of greeting to one not yet bonded. "Nor I you."
McCoy's face changed. For an instant, it froze, stilled of all expression. Then suddenly, he was the professional, detached, casual, ironic. "I see. Well, Spock, it was just a thought. I won't bother you again."
So sudden was the change that Spock took a moment to react to it. "I believe... you have misunderstood me."
McCoy raised an eyebrow.
"I did not intend to refuse your offer."
"Well, Spock, I -- you didn't?"
"I believe that is what I said." Spock slid one hand across the table to touch McCoy's; the fingertip touch appropriate between bondmates. McCoy seized his hand in both of his, a broad grin lighting up his face. "Spock."
It appeared to be a statement; Spock did not perceive a need to respond. He allowed his hand to be held, feeling the human's mind through the skin contact.
McCoy came to his feet and round the desk, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. "You don't know -- well, probably you do know -- Spock, I'm happy."
"So I perceive." Spock allowed McCoy to pull him into a hug. He had not been so embraced since before his Kahs-wan training; his grandmother had told Amanda that it was improper to touch any but a very small child so. Humans, of course, were mostly not telepathic; they had no such physical barriers. Even humans who were not bondmates touched, so casually.
Spock basked in it, but pulled away.
"We should discuss the bonding."
"Yeah," McCoy beamed. "So what do we do? Do we have to apply for leave back on Vulcan? Or can you do whatever's necessary yourself?"
"I can form the telepathic bonding myself. The ceremony must, customarily, be performed before the bonded pair have their first child."
The human blinked. "Eh? Oh, you mean that we don't need to get it done any time soon?"
Spock called on reserves of patience. "No."
"Then there's nothing to stop us just bonding tonight, is there?"
Panic is a human emotion, Spock told himself firmly. "Are you informed of the physical aspects of the bond?"
"Sex?"
"Indeed."
"Well... I know about pon farr, of course."
"Vulcans only need to have sex in pon farr. It is not physically impossible at other times, it is simply... not necessary."
There was something McCoy wanted to ask. Something very personal. He must be tactful. "Spock, are you a virgin?"
"I believe that is the technical term." Panic might be a human emotion, but it seemed to be a Vulcan one as well.
"How would you feel about me showing you how necessary it is?"
"I believe I understand that you, as a human, find it necessary, Doctor."
"Doctor? You're scared, Spock." Deliberately, he put his arms around the Vulcan, pulled him closer, and kissed him slowly. Whispered in one ear, "And my name's Leonard."
"Leonard?" Spock repeated. "Perhaps it would be appropriate, in private. Do you wish me to proceed with the bond?"
"Do you need to ask?" McCoy pulled back a little, looking the Vulcan straight in the eyes. "I love you, Spock. I don't want to hurt you, or rush you -- I just want you. On any terms."
Not really seeing any way out of this, and not certain he would˙want to take it if he found one, Spock surrendered. "I do not believe there is any necessity to delay further." He suppressed the illogical emotions that churned in his mind, taking the cool human hand in both of his, and lifting it to his face.
Spock had twice been privileged with a deep bond; but never like this. He seemed to perceive with McCoy's senses, seeing himself through McCoy's eyes. Cool fire ran through both of him; melting through each other, trusting, matching, perfect.
When they separated, it was as though they had not; McCoy could feel, certain and gentle, Spock's mind matching his. He was not sure who thought it; Always and never touching and touched.
Love you.
McCoy found a beaming smile had spread itself all over his face. He couldn't remember ever having been this happy. Spock looked as austere and controlled as ever, but now only by reaching out just a little he could feel the radiant warmth behind those icy eyes. "What now?" he whispered.
"We sleep together. Physical proximity is necessary for the bond to stabilise."
"Nothin' else?"
"As you wish. Leonard."
=@=@=
"Spock."
"Captain," the Vulcan acknowledged, pausing in the corridor.
"How are you?"
"My state is satisfactory, Captain."
"How is Bones?"
"I believe that he is also... satisfactory."
"Come in here, why don't you?"
Spock lifted an eyebrow, but followed his Captain into the cabin. A half-played chess problem stood on the table; the bunk hadn't been made; and half a dozen half-empty coffee cups stood around the cabin. It looked just as usual; Jim Kirk was a real slob.
"Listen, Spock, how's it really going? I heard you and Bones had an argument yesterday."
"We frequently argue."
"But you only bonded day before yesterday!"
Spock only lifted another eyebrow.
"Okay," Kirk sighed.
"If you will excuse me, Captain, Doctor McCoy is due off watch in 4.81 minutes."
Just then, the door-signal buzzed and McCoy walked in. "Hi, Jim. How about having supper with us tonight?"
Before Kirk could reply, Spock said gravely, "Doctor McCoy, you are not yet due to end your watch."
"Don't be a sourpuss, Spock. Nothing's happening. I cover for Chapel when she's got a hot date -- she covers for me."
"When you have a 'hot date'?" Spock's level tone somehow conveyed austere repugnance.
"Yeah -- this time with a sexy Vulcan."
"You informed her of that?"
"Sure. You can't think I meant someone else, do you?" McCoy sounded shocked. "Do you know of another sexy Vulcan on this ship?"
"Since I am the only Vulcan on this ship," Spock enunciated, "adjectives are unnecessary, illogical, inane, and inaesthetic."
Kirk sighed heavily. "I just had this idea that maybe if you two got married you'd stop quarrelling for a while. Still, if you're both happy, that's the main thing."
McCoy beamed at him. "You're such a romantic, Jim. Come to supper."
=@=@=
End
1988
Feedback: e-mail me (or comment me if you have a livejournal).