Blood Boil:

Chapter 3: Irrevocably Linked

"After marriage a husband and wife become two sides of a coin; they just can't face each other, but they stay together." - Hemant Joshi

The mess hall was quiet for how late it was. They sat in the corner looking down at half eaten plates. Spock sighed outwardly and it was something McCoy had not witnessed before; apparently he was also affecting the Vulcan. His blank stare must have given him away.

"Does that action shock you?" Spock lowered his fork and blinked. "The sigh." He clarified.

"It unnerved me a bit." McCoy admitted honestly as he poked at the fish on the plate before him. "You don't sigh." He uttered.

Spock tipped his head in acknowledgement. "I am trying to filter out your stronger emotions, but they are unlike mine it will take me some time to adjust to your relative emotional fluctuations." He shifted slowly and reached for his water. "You're not hungry?" Spock changed the conversation not wishing to incur the wrath he could feel just on the other side of the weak barrier McCoy was able to hold between them.

"Well you're still giving off this… nausea… and I just…" he set his fork down.

Spock nodded and tried to bolster his emotional resolve to harness the feelings back. "I understand Doctor and will endeavor to keep the feelings to myself if at all possible." He didn't leave out that he wasn't only projecting them, but part of McCoy was unconsciously pulling them out.

"Where does this leave us?" McCoy asked as his fork poked the food in front of him. He wasn't sure if this constituted for a baked potato or a rock.

"You are doing well enough with the emotional transference. I was concerned after I realized what had happened. I was unsure if you would be emotionally stable enough to endure this."

"I'm always unstable…Green blooded-" He didn't finish it felt wrong to; and the insult died on his lips. "So explain to me what exactly is going on I get the gist of it, but what do your people call it."

"It has no name in Earth vernacular, the closest thing it could equate to is Human Marriage." Spock's brow rose and fell quickly as he assessed his explanation in his mind. He took a drink of water, to gather his thoughts.

McCoy was slack jawed across from him. "You aren't serious…" His voice was low. "Please do not tell me that this will be a recognized…" It took him a moment. "By anyone."

Spock shook his head. "This was an accident in the midst of emergency, it will be overlooked in an official capacity."

"But what does it mean?"

"It means that I now forfeit my newly betrothed on New Vulcan." Spock said evenly picking up the napkin beside him to wipe his hands.

"You said it wouldn't be recognized." McCoy blinked.

"Are you jealous?" Spock's brow rose.

"For being indifferent you sure have a funny way of showing it." McCoy glared. "You're trying to get a rise out of me. It won't work." He stated. "You said it would not be recognized… will it or won't it?"

"Doctor McCoy, if I were to marry I would bond to my betrothed in much the same way you and I have done." He said slowly. "However I can only ever bond to one person and they must be compatible for me to do so. I will only be able to reestablish a mental bond upon your death." He said calmly. "It is fascinating to me that we were able to form such a strong bond over such little contact. A bond like this takes days, sometimes weeks for a full fledged mated pair to achieve."

"Where's our God damned trophy?" His sarcasm was dry and Spock didn't respond to it. McCoy shook his head. "So we're stuck together forever?"

"On the contrary. We will only have to be in close proximity once every seven years." McCoy whited like a sheet, and Spock knew he understood the reaction. "Between that time you are free to be as far from me as you like, though when we are close emotional management will be nessiscary."

McCoy nodded and just listened. "Durring the event every seven years you will need to be with me. While you will have to be close; I will not have to fulfill any physical responsibility with you, there are other…. options that I will have to pursue during Pon Farr. These will be best for both, though you will not be unaffected."

McCoy pushed his plate away and nodded. "That's a relief…but I'll still know what you're doing, feel it, be reacting to it." He muttered rubbing his eyes. "This is just …great." He sighed and leaned back running that same hand up through his hair.

"Yes." Spock said. "And for that I'm sorry Doctor."

McCoy nodded and waved his hand. "Not like we can take it back."

Spock nodded. "It will be beneficial if I teach you meditation."

"Meditation? Are you kidding me?" McCoy shook his head. "I don't think so…"

Spock sighed again trying to filter out the frustration the doctor was pushing his way. "Please Doctor, I understand how this can be inconvenient."

McCoy held up a hand. "I need time to think." He uttered. "How many years until this… Pon Farr?"

Spock looked up. "At least three point six years."

McCoy nodded. "Give me at least a day by myself to think about all this." McCoy said calmly. "Then we'll talk again."

"Of course." Spock said watching the Doctor stand. "Until then… rest well."

"You too…" McCoy wanted to insult him, wanted to toss a colorful metaphor, but why was it: he couldn't.

Spock watched as McCoy stood and turned discarding his tray turning into the hallway.

When McCoy got back to his quarters he dressed for bed. Usually he'd read but tonight his head was splitting open.

As he laid back in his bed he shifted to get himself more comfortable.

The berth he had was quite small, because his room was not up with senior staff on the main level below the bridge; oh they had wanted him there, but he wouldn't move into a dead man's quarters.

He told them that if there were a medical emergency being three decks away from medical would loose lives. Jim had unwillingly agreed to give him quarters lower in the ship.

His quarters were just off the medical ward. He rolled over and sighed, why did Spock have to be reading. Quantum theory at this time of night; what was he thinking? He couldn't understand but laid back. He could feel Spock focus, and as he laid back he listened to the Vulcan's mind as he pursued the warp theory report that Scotty had put in the day prior.

McCoy didn't understand most of it, but it was a good bedtime story and it lulled him into a false sense of quiet; bored to death didn't even start to describe it.

How the Vulcan's voice, the one he was annoyed with most of the time, could do that; he'd never know. It was something he would trill over later; he was three decks below the Vulcan and on the opposite side of the saucer but could still feel him as if he were a touch away.

He rolled onto his back and let his head loll to the left as he let his mind wander away from himself the drone of the Vulcan's mind was enough to put him asunder for the night.

to be concluded...