Chapter 7. Thanks for the reviews, and to J. Rosemary Moss for being my beta.

"I thought Jim was still on shore leave. How come he's going back to work?" McCoy asked, trying to wipe away the last remaining traces of tears from his face.

Perhaps he cannot bring himself to relax knowing that you are in distress," Spock answered.

McCoy's feelings were all over the place. He was both exhausted and wound up; a part of him felt relieved that the truth was out---as if he'd expelled some sort of poison, but at the same time voicing his shame had made it that much more real.

He was grateful for Spock's company, but he also felt slightly apprehensive. Was it really just concern that compelled Spock to stay, or was there something else on his mind?

McCoy set that problem aside and tried to mentally rehearse his apology to Joanna, but everything sounded pathetic and weak. Would it make any difference if he said he'd never forgive himself?

"God, I need a drink," he said softly, putting his head down on the desk. He knew that he also needed sleep, but that notion didn't thrill him much. The sooner he went to sleep, the sooner it would be tomorrow and time for the meeting with Joanna. Then again, maybe that would be a good thing---the sooner it happened, the sooner the worst part of it would be over.

That's what it really came down to, wasn't it? The discussion itself? He already knew more or less what the outcome would be: Joanna never wanting anything to do with him again. That was a foregone conclusion. So why was he almost paralyzed with fear?

Maybe because there was no way he could sugar coat his apology in a way that would not cause Joanna pain, no matter how clear he was on the remorse he felt.

"McCoy? McCoy!"

The doctor snapped back to the present to find Spock standing over him, not quite able to hide his concern. In his hand was a glass of water.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Spock. I guess I drifted off for a minute." McCoy took the water from him. "You know, when I said I needed a drink, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

Spock shook his head. "I am well aware of your meaning, Doctor. However, I do not believe you would be wise to become intoxicated at this time. I have observed that alcohol often amplifies pre-existing emotions. It would not improve your mood, but make you feel even worse---"

"That I find hard to believe," McCoy muttered, though he knew Spock had a point.

"Also," Spock continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "since you are meeting with your family tomorrow it would be wise to do so with a clear head, since the affects of alcohol tend to linger afterwards---"

"Okay, okay!" McCoy said. "Point taken, thank you. What happened to lecturing being illogical?"

"The Captain was giving you no new information. In this case, I am far less certain that you are aware of the facts."

"Sure, Spock. Look, I won't even drink enough to get drunk, so there's no way I'd be hung over tomorrow. You think I want to make things even harder for myself and Joanna than they already are?"

"Not intentionally, but you do have a tendency to let your emotions cloud your judgement," Spock pointed out.

"Which is exactly how I got into this mess, I know." McCoy set aside the glass and put his head back down on the desk.

"McCoy?" Spock said softly, and McCoy caught just the slightest hesitation in his voice. He turned his head to look at Spock. "If you are tired, then it would be best if you ceased working for now. You need the rest." He seemed to think for a minute. "You could sleep in my cabin, if you do not wish to be alone."

And also because there's no alcohol there, right? McCoy almost felt like smiling. Almost. You really don't trust me, do you?

Still, he had to admit that he was touched by Spock's offer, since the Vulcan did not make a regular habit out of inviting folks into his cabin. McCoy wondered what would happen if he turned down the offer---would Spock insist on following him back to his own cabin?

He thought about it for awhile.

"Okay," he said finally. "Thanks, Spock."

McCoy stood up and followed Spock out of the room. He hoped his distress was not plastered all over his face. Just to be on the safe side, he kept his eyes on Spock for most of the trip, talking about whatever nonsense he could think of in order to look normal. Luckily for him, Spock understood what he was up to and played along accordingly.

Once inside the cabin, Spock gave a command to the computer to lower the temperature of the room.

"You didn't have to do that," McCoy said. "Sure you won't be too cold?"

"I only lowered the temperature ten point five degrees, Doctor. It is a slight distraction, nothing more."

"Uh, huh," McCoy said slowly. He found himself trying to figure out exactly how the sleeping arrangements were going to be---it helped him take his mind away from Joanna for the moment.

Would Spock mind sharing the bed? All they were going to do was sleep, after all. Then again, there was the fact that Spock was a touch-telepath. He might be getting a bit strung out himself having picked up so much of McCoy's emotions as it was. He could probably use a breather.

Maybe he should just sleep on the floor? Spock was already being kind enough to share his cabin-and lower the temperature of the room to below his usual comfort level- the least McCoy could do was let Spock keep his bed.

McCoy frowned. He felt undeserving of Spock's kindness. It was Joanna who deserved the sympathy, not him. Didn't Spock know that? Or was there some sort of ulterior motive behind Spock's actions; perhaps McCoy was in for another lecture after all?

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Spock put a hand on his shoulder. Usually it was Jim who was the 'touchy-feely' member of their trio, and Spock was the one who held back. What was going on here?

"I merely wished to ask if you wanted to sit down," Spock explained.

Maybe I should just ask him directly, McCoy thought. He looked around the cabin for a moment before finally sitting down at the desk.

"Spock... why are you doing this? I mean, why are you being so nice?"

"You are my friend," Spock said simply, as if it were another example of his logic. But it wasn't... was it?

"Well, yeah, but..."

"And as I stated before, you are clearly aware of the fact that you were in error and you are willing to take the steps necessary to correct it."

McCoy nodded. "I still don't understand though."

"Why not?" Spock asked. "My opinion of you remains unchanged. You are still the same person you were before I found out about this part of your past."

"If you say so," McCoy muttered. There was something else on his mind. "Um, Spock? Have there ever been---I mean, what do people on Vulcan do in this kind of situation?"

"Adultery is rare among Vulcans, given the nature of the marriage bond and the fact that we do our best to select a logical choice to begin with."

McCoy narrowed his eyes, remembering Spock's own failed marriage ceremony.

Noticing the look on McCoy's face, Spock finally acknowledged, "I only said it was rare, not completely unheard of. In the event that an affair results in a child, he or she will be left in the custody of the more suitable parent, whomever that might be."

"Well, I guess I gave up that title," McCoy said ruefully.

"I am sorry," Spock said. "I wish I could be of more assistance."

"Don't worry about it, you've done enough," McCoy reassured him. He put his head down on the desk.

"Are you certain you would not be more comfortable on the bed?" Spock asked. "It would not be any trouble."

"I'm fine," McCoy mumbled. He really was tired. Maybe if he closed his eyes for just a minute...

To be continued...