Disclaimer: I don't own nuttin', not no way, not no how.

Chapter 7. Entr'acte, ptie 1

Nyota stepped off the transporter pad and breathed a sigh of relief: it was good to be home. She had been happy to help the X'Chi!di refugees—it had been interesting and she was glad of the opportunity to help people in real need—but the work had also been difficult and exhausting. She was glad to just go back to being a communications officer instead of having to function as a translator, base administration liaison, and more-or-less surrogate mother for a group of 27 overwhelmed people. Well, they were now safely in the hands of the newly-arrived translator from their colony, and she didn't have to worry over them anymore. She had been able to rest on the Benjamin Banneker during the 32 hour journey from the base to the rendezvous point with the Enterprise, but she was still quite tired and was looking forward to relaxing among her friends.

She went to her quarters to drop off her duffle bag and then headed to the med bay for her obligatory health check-up. The new respiratory infection that had struck the star base and the Enterprise was now completely under control, but the base was a veritable stew pot of potential disease, and she needed to be checked thoroughly to make sure she wasn't about to be the vector that introduced one of those to the crew. When she passed other crew members in the corridors, she noticed that some people were giving her strange looks as she made her way to the medical facilities. Was there something wrong with her uniform or some other problem with her appearance, she wondered? She ducked into the nearest head to check, but as far as she could see, there was no problem with the way she looked. Perhaps because of where she was going, given its natural associations with illness, she started wondering if people were worried that she had brought some other new disease back with her from the base. She shrugged it off and proceeded to the med bay.

When Nyota arrived, Dr. McCoy was involved in surgery on a crew member who had been injured in an accident in the cargo bay, so it was Nurse Lousin Lupian who took her through the check-up. Nurse Lupian was one of the new med staff personnel; as a nurse-practitioner certified in acute care, adult health, and clinical xenomedicine, she was perfectly qualified to perform the exam. After the standard exam and specialized tests to check for known diseases from the base and to look for any sign of unusual immune response, she gave Nyota a clean bill of health, but noting her lingering exhaustion, recommended that she not return to duty until the following day. By this time, McCoy was out of the operating theater and after taking one look at her wan features, changed the nurse's recommendation to an order—the CMO trumped even the captain in this regard. He agreed that she could go to her scheduled debriefing with the commander, but after that, she was not to do any work until the following day.

As Nyota was about to leave the med bay, she ran into Nurse Christine Chapel. The two women had become good friends, and they had missed each other. Chapel was off duty at the end of second watch, and they arranged to meet at 1610 in one of the coffee bars so that they could visit and fill each other in on news, both ship-wide and personal.

Nyota then headed for the ready room for a short debriefing session with the first officer. When she arrived, the captain was there, too, and they both greeted her warmly. She gave Spock her verbal report, answered some questions, and told him to expect her written report later in the week. Spock seemed completely normal, and there was nothing unusual about the interactions between the two men, but once she noticed that the captain was looking at her oddly. After a moment, he seemed to recover himself, and his face smoothed out into normal-captain mode. The strange look hadn't lasted long, but she definitely hadn't imagined it, and she wondered if it was caused by the same thing that seemed to be drawing her unwanted attention from some of her shipmates. She almost asked him about it but decided not to, thinking that whatever was bothering the captain would come up at some point if it were important. Her debriefing completed, Spock dismissed her and told her to follow the CMO's orders and get some rest.

Uhura rested in her quarters until it was time to meet Christine. On the way to the coffee bar, she garnered some more odd looks—what was going on, she wondered? Maybe her friend would have some idea what was up. The two women talked for a while, catching up, when Nyota asked suddenly, "Christine, are people really worried about diseases coming back with me from the star base? I've been getting a bunch of strange looks…" she trailed off.

Her friend looked at her and said, "Well, there's probably some of that—I think that respiratory bug kind of shook everybody up, even though it ultimately wasn't that bad—but I think it's more likely that people are wondering if they should ask you if you know any details of what happened between the captain and Mr. Spock."

Nyota stared at her and asked, "What are you talking about, Chris?"

Christine paled slightly and grimaced while saying uncomfortably, "Oooh, gosh, I just assumed Mr. Spock would have told you, but I'm guessing from your reaction that you don't know anything about that at all." She stopped talking abruptly.

Taking in her friend's look and tone of voice, Nyota was fairly certain that "what happened" was not a good thing, but instead had been a bad thing. She then remembered Kirk's strange look at her debriefing, and suddenly "fairly certain" became "absolutely certain." With a physical start, Nyota abruptly recalled a personal email she'd received while she was at the base—one of a very few, as by and large, her shipmates had known she was almost as overwhelmed as her 27 charges—which had asked cryptically, "Do you know anything?" To her return question of, "About what?" the reply came back, "Oh, sorry! My mistake, never mind!" That was the entire exchange. She had been far too busy at the time to worry about what it all meant, and it had dropped out of her awareness. But it now came rushing back with Christine's words, and she thought she now knew the answer to her own question, if not her shipmate's.

Her face became grim and she said, "Tell me," in a clipped tone.

The nurse answered, "Well, first I want to say that I think things are fine between them now, so I don't want you thinking this is still a problem." Nyota lost a little of her grim look as Christine continued, "But, there were a few days while you were away when they weren't speaking to each other except when they were both on the bridge. Nobody seems to know anything about why or what, though, not even Dr. McCoy, and he and the captain have been best friends since they were at the Academy. You didn't even know about it, and I can't imagine that Mr. Spock would talk to anyone else, so that means we're all in the dark."

Christine shook her head and went on, "Boy, I sure didn't know Vulcans could look so sad." She was looking down and didn't see Nyota's shocked stare. She was quiet for a beat and then continued her account. "I was going one direction on B Deck and Mr. Spock was coming from the other, and about half-way between us there were two crew members laughing so hard about something that they were hanging on to each other for support. He was utterly riveted on them…" She looked up as she said, "You know, staring at them with that look of complete concentration that only he can have—and so I don't think he even saw me." The nurse looked down again. "But anyway, before they noticed him and straightened up to salute, about the saddest expression I've ever seen on anyone flashed across his face. It was gone in a split second, but it was definitely there. I'm telling you, Nyota, it about broke my heart to see that. I really just wanted to scoop him up in a big sisterly hug, but of course, I couldn't, and on top of that, I had to pretend I hadn't seen anything at all. But at least, I really don't think he knew I saw that look on his face—gosh, I sure hope not, I wouldn't embarrass him for the world—'cuz he looked completely normal when we passed. And I've gotten really good at putting on a poker face myself, thanks to those weekly card games…" She looked up then and noticed the thunderous look on her friend's face, and after a moment's awkward silence, she said, "Umm, I probably shouldn't have told you about his looking sad…"

Nyota made an effort to soften her expression—she wasn't angry at Christine, after all—then she sighed and said, "No, I'm glad you did; I need to know what I'm dealing with here."

Christine said hastily, "Like I said, I'm sure they're over it, whatever it was…"

Nyota interrupted, "OK, that's good, I guess…but the fact that it happened at all…" She blinked back a tear. She was sure that whatever had gone wrong must have been Kirk's fault, and, knowing, as she did, that the two men had been becoming close, her heart ached at the thought of Spock having to endure the sudden (though apparently temporary) loss of a friendship which had quickly become very important to him. Once again in control of herself, she looked at Christine and, seeing the woman's troubled expression, put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Chris, please don't feel bad. I really needed to know this, and I'm glad I heard about it from you, before someone else actually asked me and I had to say that I didn't know anything about it. Now, I can just say that it's a private matter between Kirk and Spock, if anyone asks."

"And are you going to leave this as a 'private matter' between them?" her friend asked.

Her grim look returning, Nyota answered, "I'll talk to Spock first, but I'm pretty sure I'll be talking to Kirk, too."

Christine replied, "OK." She paused a moment and added, "But if you do talk to the captain, try not to be too hard on him, OK? Mr. Spock seems to have gotten past it, whatever it was, because they seem quite friendly now. And I actually know that, it's not just rumor; I've seen them myself in the mess hall." At her friend's dubious look, she added, reasonably, "And from what I've seen on this voyage, the captain really is a good man. He tries his best, but he just makes mistakes sometimes, like anyone would."

Nyota thought, Oh, but this isn't just a mistake like any other; to do something to hurt Spock, of all people!,before bringing her attention back to her friend, to nod and say, "I'll try, but I just…" She paused looking for words, finally coming out with, "I'm very protective of Spock because of everything he's been through and because he doesn't really have anyone else to watch his back."

"Well, I'm glad you're looking out for him, Nyota; he does need someone doing that," Christine replied, not yet aware of the budding friendship between her boss and the commander. She looked at her watch then and said, "Oh, gosh, Nyota, sorry but I have to run." The two women stood and started toward the exit. Christine continued, "I'm supposed to meet Scotty, to, uh…get some tips for my, uh…poker game. I've got the face down, but I could use some help with everything else."

Nyota's face split with a wide grin, and Christine blushed a very pretty shade of pink that perfectly complimented her blond hair and vivid blue eyes. Uhura waggled her eyebrows and smirked at her. Christine swatted her friend on the arm and said, "Stop that! It isn't like that…"

To which Nyota answered, "Well, I think you could probably change that anytime you wanted to," and Christine's blush deepened. The communications officer nodded in approval and said, "And Chris, Scotty really is a good man."

"So is the one we were talking about earlier!" Christine replied.

Nyota rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly while thinking privately, I want to think that might be so, but that remains to be seen. They waved to each other, going off in opposite directions down the corridor.

Once she was alone, Nyota queried her communicator for the location of Commander Spock. Second watch had ended an hour previously, and he was in one of the science labs, so she headed off to see him there. On the way, she was stopped once by a curious shipmate, and she was suddenly very glad that Christine had filled her in. She'd have to let Christine know so her friend would stop feeling guilty about having told her. It would be about the best way that she could think of to thank the woman.

When she found him in the lab's labyrinthine interior, Nyota said, "Commander Spock, may I speak with you," and then at his questioning look added, "Privately?"

Spock said, "This way, Lieutenant Uhura," as he led her to the small conference room attached to the lab. Her request for a private conversation, along with her compressed lips and dark expression, gave him an inkling of what was coming, but he kept his expression neutral and tried not to betray the apprehension that was building in him. Although it was possible that she was upset about something other than his "disagreement" with Jim, he calculated there was a 98.6% certainty that this was not the case. (Hmm, was it just coincidence that the percentage was the same number as normal human body temperature? Best put that aside for now.)

He ushered her into the room and closed the door behind them. He turned to face her and stood with his hands clasped together behind his back and waited for her to speak.

Nyota crossed her arms over her chest and came straight to the point. "Spock, what happened between you and Captain Kirk while I was away?"

Even though he had been expecting her to say something like this, the half-Vulcan still winced inwardly when he actually heard it. He had hoped there would be no need to have this conversation with Nyota, hoped that somehow she might never find out about that little incident, but of course she had. Even knowing it was almost certainly futile, he decided to bluff anyway, hoping to forestall her. It was not at all logical, but there was a slight, oh-so-slight chance that it would work, and even if it did not it would at least buy him some time. His mouth was suddenly very dry, but he somehow managed to swallow, and he asked her, "Why do you think something happened?"

Unknowingly copying Bones' words and expression when he was talking to Jim the other night, she rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, come on, Spock! Did you really think you guys could stop speaking to each other for a few days and no one would notice?! Or that they wouldn't gossip about it? You've lived around humans long enough to know that!"

He had to admit she was right—he had known that—but somehow he had convinced himself that this time might be the exception to the rule, or if it was not, then he thought/hoped people would have completely moved on to other topics by the time she got back. But that had not happened, either.

She went on, "Or did you think I just wouldn't hear about it when I got back?" She sighed and shook her head. "I'd been getting really strange looks pretty much since I stepped off the transporter pad, so I asked a friend why that might be, and this person told me it was probably because some of my shipmates were wondering if they should ask me about what happened between you and the captain, just assuming that I would know. Then, of course, what little this person knew came out, which is fortunate because, as a result, I wasn't caught unawares when someone actually did ask me."

Under normal circumstances, Spock would have been curious as to just what Nyota had been told, but today he was much too distracted thinking about what he was going to say to her to worry about what someone else had said. He looked down, finding that he could not meet her gaze. He almost-sighed before saying, "We had a misunderstanding, which was entirely my fault, but we discussed the cause of our difficulty, and we resolved the problem between us."

While he was speaking, a fleeting expression of searing pain crossed his face before his features closed in again. It was so brief that she would have missed it had she not been watching him very intently, and she simultaneously felt her heart breaking for him and her blood boiling toward the person who had done this to him. When he looked up at her, his expression was once again tightly controlled, having pasted on his best neutral, this-matter-is-closed Vulcan face, the one that did not invite any further enquiry.

She narrowed her eyes at him, recognizing from his look that she was very unlikely to get any more information from him on the subject. Listening to his brief account, Nyota had wanted to scream with rage, but she wasn't angry at Spock—no, she needed to save that for its proper target—so she had forced her features into a more neutral mould. Even without that brief, revealing expression on his face, his blank refusal to tell her anything about the incident actually told her quite a lot, and together they confirmed what Christine had understood from seeing that one unguarded moment in the corridor: the rift with Kirk had been pure hell for the half-Vulcan emotionally. Her voice took on a quality of deadly calm as she replied, "Somehow, I doubt very much that it was your fault in any way, shape, or form." He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a look. She made her decision about talking to Kirk. She paused, tapping her foot, as she uncrossed and then re-crossed her arms. Then she said, "When I talk to Kirk, what is he going to say?"

Spock gave her a sharp look at her unadorned use if the captain's surname, but any consideration of this was quickly swept aside as he took in what she was saying: she was going to talk to Jim. This could not be good; he was certain the encounter would not end well. He knew his small but clear expression was reflecting the genuine alarm he felt, but once again, it was beyond his ability to completely control it. (Why was it almost always something to do with Jim Kirk, these times when he was unable to keep his face under its normal tight control?) But beyond what she might say, there was the very real question of what she might do—she might look delicate, but she was actually quite strong. He said urgently, "Nyota, please, do not speak with Jim about this matter." Her eyebrows shot up at the use of the captain's first name, but she said nothing. He continued, unknowingly using many of the same words as she had when she was speaking to her curious shipmate, saying, "It is a private matter between the captain and me, and it has been resolved." He set his mouth into a thin line to emphasize the point.

She sighed and said, "Spock, I'm sorry, but I have to talk to him. I agree, it can remain a 'private matter' in that I won't try to force any details of your…'misunderstanding'… out of him—if you'd wanted me to know, you would have told me, and I respect that—but I have to tell him that he just can't do this to you…he just can't!" She had to blink rapidly a few times, thinking of the loyalty of this man to a person she was not at all sure could be trusted. At his tiny bleak expression—she could still read him very well—her own face softened. She uncrossed her arms from her chest and, laying a hand on his shoulder, said, "Don't worry, Spock. I won't kill him—this time…" She dropped her hand, suddenly looking very angry again, and she said, "But if he ever does anything like this again…" she briefly curled one hand into a fist as she finished, "I won't guarantee I'll be responsible for my actions."

Spock did protest then, saying, "Nyota, please; this anger you feel toward Jim is unjustified. I have explained to you that the problem was my fault…"

She interrupted then. "Spock, I simply don't believe you. Your repeating it isn't going to make me believe it, and it's not going to make me change my mind about talking to him."

He almost-sighed again, recognizing defeat. He looked at her a long moment before finally saying, "Although I disagree with your proposed course of action, I recognize that you are acting out of concern for me." He paused briefly and then said, "Thank you, Nyota," as one corner of his mouth rose a minute amount.

At that, she let out a long breath, and a lot of the tension she had been holding inside let go at the same time. She managed a rather weak smile and replied, "You're welcome. You've got to have someone who looks out for you, after all." She patted his arm. "And now I'd better let you get back to what you were doing. Thanks for taking the time to talk to me."

He inclined his head, saying, "You may come talk with me anytime, Nyota," and she knew he meant it.

Just before they left the privacy of the conference room, Spock asked, "Are you going to talk to him now?"

Nyota nodded and said, "If I can, but if not now, then as soon as possible."

He looked at her solemnly and replied, "Please keep your word that you will not kill him?" making it a slight question. She hesitated to show that she really did have to think about this, but then she nodded. He almost-sighed once again and said, "That will have to suffice."

As they stood outside the door to the conference room, they nodded their farewells, once more formally calling each other "Lieutenant" and "Commander," there now being the possibility of public scrutiny. Here they parted ways, as his next destination in the lab was in the opposite direction from the exit, and she knew her way out.


OK. One down, one to go, Nyota thought as she again consulted her communicator. Hmmm; Kirk was in his quarters. She pondered. Should she call him on his communicator and give him the choice of talking to her there or meeting her somewhere else, like the captain's ready room? It didn't take her long to figure it out: offer no choice, confront him in his quarters. This was, she knew, a completely personal matter—if it had been some serious disagreement over something to do with the ship or with some aspect of their mission, there would have been reports out the wazoo, and there were no reports on this what-so-ever—so she not only felt justified in her decision, she felt it really was the proper place for this conversation. She squared her shoulders and started for the turbolift.

When she got to Kirk's door, Nyota didn't hesitate. She pushed the door chime with unnecessary force, even though she knew this wouldn't affect the sound he heard on his end, and then she waited impatiently for him to answer. After a delay of almost 30 seconds, the door swooshed open to reveal a slightly bleary-eyed captain sporting a distinctly rumpled uniform. She couldn't help but feel a bit smug as she thought, Well, good! I've apparently caught you at a disadvantage. As he stood blinking at her, she asked in a terse official-communications-officer voice, "Permission to enter…Sir?" putting a strong emphasis on the last word, which together with the pause, made it clear that she added it with great reluctance.

Jim took in her near-murderous look, and he knew immediately why she was there. He very badly wanted to say, "Permission denied," but he stood back and wordlessly gestured her in anyway. He then said in as commanding a tone as he could manage, given his just-woke-up state now combing with a growing feeling of alarm, "Over here," pointing her to one of the four chairs pulled up around a conference table. This area of his quarters, separate from his bedroom and the small bath, also housed a cluster of two easy chairs along with a couch and a low table, a desk and an office chair, a computer, and a small bookshelf. He had not asked for this extra space or the furniture and equipment that filled it, they had come with the ship. It was one of the perks of the job, but it made kind of logical sense in that it provided a place for him to talk more informally with important visitors (a nice change from the sterility of the official conference rooms), or to work from here if he so chose, including having the ability to meet with small numbers of his senior staff if need be. A captain is never off duty—he can be on the bridge any time he wants (in addition to the times he absolutely must be there) or anywhere else on the ship at any time (except when he would logically need to be on the bridge, etc.).

Although he almost always worked in the captain's ready room—he liked the home-like feel of his quarters and didn't want to change this by working there too often—but it was just good to have the option of working from here if he wanted. At least, this was usually the case. The downside was that it made this confrontation possible in his quarters, when without it, he would have had an excuse to move the, err…meeting…elsewhere. But then again, maybe it was best to be right here in any case, since he was in a place where he could just fall apart afterward if he needed to. For reasons he had yet to fathom, his own normally very tight control over some of his more negative emotions was likely to slip in matters regarding his first officer, and if she was really as incandescently furious as she appeared…

She took one of the chairs, crossed her arms over her chest, and sat glowering at him. Moving warily, he eased himself into the chair at his desk, as this allowed him to put the conference table between them, as well as putting him a bit further away from her. It wasn't much, but it helped. He waited for her to begin.

She spat out, "Permission to speak freely…Sir?"

That again. He knew he should object and call her on it, but he suddenly found himself just too…weary to react, besides which he thought he deserved any scorn she felt like heaping upon him. Spock had completely forgiven him so readily, and he wasn't sure if he really deserved that steady loyalty, that he was feeling somewhat guilty. None-the-less, he wasn't looking forward to the dressing down he knew was in store for him, plus it was yet more of the personal-conflict-type awfulness that he generally avoided at all costs, and for a moment, he thought seriously of saying, "Permission denied." But instead he forced out of a reluctant throat, "Permission granted." There, he'd said it. And then he knew—absolutely, 100% knew—that it wouldn't have mattered what he'd said in response to her request, she was going to blast into him in any case. And he knew he richly deserved it.

She did not disappoint. Nyota uncrossed her arms and leveled a menacing finger at his chest. She glared at him, saying in a bitterly angry tone, with no preamble, "Do you have any idea," her voice rising briefly to a near shout, "any idea at all how much you hurt him?"

Anything Jim had thought to say simply fled from his mind. Before she actually spoke, he had planned to say something along the lines of, "It was all my fault and it won't happen again." But her blunt question made the first part irrelevant—they were clearly in agreement on whose fault it was—and additionally, made the second part sound glibly trite and shallow at best, or insincere and shallow at worst. He had known that he had hurt his friend very badly, but to hear someone else say it brought it home in a new way. He felt very near to tears, but he was absolutely determined not to let her see him cry. He wondered again what was the matter with him, why he became so very emotional whenever he thought about his falling out with Spock. Until this recent incident with his first officer, he hadn't cried about anything since he was a child. But he couldn't think about that now, what this might mean; he had to deal with the very angry woman sitting in front of him.

For a few moments, he was unable to say anything at all as he considered her question. He bowed his head, and when he was finally able to speak, he gulped in a softly miserable voice, "Yes, I do."

She narrowed her eyes at him and challenged, "Oh, yeah? Tell me, then; tell me how you know." She wasn't asking for any details of their dispute, whatever it had been; she just wanted confirmation that he did, indeed, know what he'd done. After a slight pause, she added furiously, "Because I want to know if there's any hope at all that you can be trusted to refrain from doing something like this in the future."

He sat for a long moment trying to decide how to answer. He didn't think it would be a good idea at all to tell Nyota about the awful revelation from Spock that removed any doubt as to the depth of his transgression, but then he looked up at her and found himself doing just exactly that. One moment he was going to keep it strictly to himself and the next, he was telling her something that he had never meant to reveal to anyone, least of all her. (Well, he had told Bones, but he hadn't actually meant to—the information had simply spilled out of him.)

As if someone else were controlling his voice, he heard himself say, "He told me he was about to request a transfer." He couldn't look at her—it was hard enough to just relate the incident, and he didn't have the additional strength to watch her reaction to it—so he fastened his gaze on the floor in front of him as he continued, haltingly, "It was a couple of days after we'd patched things up between us, and we were talking over a crew member's transfer request that, uh…that just said "Personal reasons" for the justification, which, umm…is usually code for a relationship that, uh…that didn't work out. I couldn't see this as a serious reason for granting the transfer request, and because I didn't want to lose this person, I was inclined to deny it."

He didn't look up, but he could feel her eyes burning holes in the top of his head. He somehow continued, "But then, Spock, uh…Spock started arguing the crewman's side. This wasn't what I expected, so I, umm…said something stupid, like, 'You sound like you're speaking from personal experience'…" He had to pause and take a number of deep breaths as he regained a measure of control—no, he was not going to cry in front of her—and finally went on, "Then he didn't say anything at all, just fixed me with a look that went straight through me."

He paused as the memory came rushing back before he said, "I don't think he meant to look at me like that, more like thinking about it just overwhelmed him and he couldn't help it. 'Cuz even after that, he wasn't going to tell me, so I had to drag it out of him, and somehow, that made it much worse when he finally did tell me…" He faltered, recalling that conversation. After that look from Spock, Jim had felt compelled to find out what was behind it, so he had actively pulled the damning information out of his first officer himself. The process had been gut-wrenchingly difficult and the revelations incredibly painful to hear. But as he remembered, he felt, paradoxically, an odd sort of growing inner strength at a sudden realization. Despite his unhappily established pattern of avoiding personally contentious situations rather than face them, he had, in the space of a few weeks, actually taken the initiative to resolve two such problems. And both of these occasions had involved his first officer: once when he had apologized for his behavior during the Narada incident, and then again during their conversation about transfers, and he hadn't taken the easy way out, hadn't let important things remain unknown and unsaid. In between, there had been his very serious lapse—it had been Spock who had taken the initiative and started the difficult conversation that led to their repairing their friendship—but still, that made it twice that he had squarely resolved a personal conflict with the same person. Did this, too, mean something? He'd have to consider it later.

His thoughts completed in brief seconds, the captain bought his attention back to the woman glaring at him from the far side of the conference table. Unfortunately, the strength he'd found to face difficult personal matters with Spock didn't seem to be helping him much now, but there was no ducking what was coming, and there was nothing for it but to see it through. He was grateful he was sitting down, because he didn't think his legs would hold him. He stole a glance at Nyota's face but quickly looked down; he gulped again and paused briefly while he fought down tears, but he managed to say in an almost normal tone, "He…he, uh…told me that he was within about a day of asking for a transfer, but he decided to come talk to me first…" he ground to a halt and continued looking miserably down at the floor.

Nyota stared at him, stunned. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting him to say, but it certainly wasn't this. It took some moments for her to absorb the various implications of what he'd just said. When she was finally ready to speak, in a very quiet voice that was still somehow laced with deadly anger, she began, "You…you made him come talk to you to resolve a problem that you caused?" He was unable to say anything or look at her, so he just nodded.

By now, she had worked through it all to focus on the worst possible conclusion. She said bluntly, "And if that hadn't worked, or if he hadn't decided it was worth a try talking to you in the first place, he might already be off this ship?"

Jim hesitated; should he defend himself? He now knew her last accusation wasn't true. He would, in fact, have turned the situation around—if, he had to acknowledge, if his first officer would have been willing to give their friendship another try, after it would have appeared that things were past the point of no return—but he had not yet come to that particular realization when Spock was in the ready room that night. So there was that to consider, but the more salient point was that, as he thought about it, he had a strong and growing conviction that it would not be a good idea to say anything in his own defense right at that moment. It would sound like lame justification and seemed likely to infuriate her further rather than calm her into reasonableness.

So instead, he nodded again, feeling physically ill once more over what he'd done. All he could do now was sit with Uhura while the full implication of all this sank in to her, while he waited for what was surely coming.

And it didn't take long for that full implication to hit her: Spock had felt so desperate to be away from Kirk, that he was willing to leave her—as far as she knew, still his only real friend in the entire galaxy—to leave her and all that was familiar on the Enterprise behind.

She sat for several long minutes with her jaws clenched together while she glared into the middle distance. As the silence stretched between them uncomfortably, he finally looked up. Seeing his movement, she then shifted her gaze to his face and fixed him with a ridged stare as she bared her teeth at him and balled up her hands. Suddenly, she shot up out of her seat and stood shaking one fist at him while she gritted her teeth and made a growling noise in her throat.

He flinched from the rage he saw building within her, but he still said, as evenly as he could manage, "Go ahead and hit me. I think it would make us both feel better."

She continued to stare at him while she was starting to shake from the adrenaline now coursing through her system. With a roar, she abruptly spun around and screamed, "You son of a BITCH!" as she punched the back of her chair instead of his face. The chair flew across the room and smacked into the opposite wall with a loud bang. She turned around and strode over to where he was sitting. Breathing heavily, she stood looking at him for a few moments with something close to raw hatred. Then she growled again as she shook her fist in his face before spinning on her heal and storming out of his quarters.

Stumbling from suddenly very blurry vision, Jim haltingly made his way to the door and activated the "Do Not Disturb Except in Case of Emergency" control. He then somehow made it into his bedroom and he shut that door, too, before collapsing on the bed and once more giving way to his feelings.


Nyota's adrenalated energy carried her back to her quarters in mere seconds. Once inside, she tried to sit but her mind was in a whirl over what she had learned from Kirk, and she was up and pacing within a short time. She had been at it about 10 minutes, and her adrenaline level was receding, when she stopped in her tracks, realization dawning on her that she had really gone too far. True, she hadn't actually hit Kirk, but she had come very close. And she had stood over him in a threatening manner. That was not behavior that was acceptable from a Starfleet officer toward one's captain. He would almost certainly write her up for this, and she supposed if he wanted to push things, she could be up for court-martial. Oh, well; what was done was done. There was nothing she could do to fix the situation; all she could do was to wait and see what, if anything, Kirk did next.

Now that she had started to calm down, she also noticed that her hand had begun to hurt, and hurt badly. She stopped to look at it. The big knuckle on her middle finger was red and swollen—apparently, that part of her fist had connected with the frame of the chair and not just the soft padding. She hadn't noticed at the time, beyond a brief awareness of increased pressure on that part of her hand, but it was now getting to the point where she needed to have someone look at the injury pretty quickly. She was also beginning to feel sheepish at what she had done—she wasn't normally given to violence, but then, this wasn't a normal situation—but she couldn't let that stop her from getting it attended to.

With a sigh, she left her quarters and headed for the med bay. Second watch had ended some time ago, and Christine would be off duty, so there was a strong possibility she would end up seeing Dr. McCoy. But maybe she would be lucky and it would be one of the other doctors who might not ask the same kind of probing questions that she knew would come from McCoy.

But darn, no such luck—there was Bones, right in the waiting area, having just finished giving a crewman final instructions on using a piece of medical equipment. The man thanked him and then left them alone as the doctor's eyes fastened on her injured knuckle. He moved over to her, took a brief look at her hand, and led her to an exam room. Once there, he picked up her hand to inspect it, waving a tricorder over it. He had feared that there might be some kind of confrontation between the communications officer and the captain when she returned to the ship. So now, noting the type of damage, as well as the fact that her entire explanation for how it had happened was, "I, umm…hit it on something," he looked at her slightly askance and drawled mildly, "Well, since Jim isn't in here with a broken nose or something, I'm guessing you didn't hit him in the face."

She blinked and colored at his perceptiveness, replying, "I hit a chair instead…but for a moment there, it was a near thing." She winced as her knuckle protested the examination. To help distract herself, she explained further, "I think I hit the frame accidentally…" she trailed off.

He raised an eyebrow at her but refrained from saying anything else until he had finished examining and then treating the injury. At that point he said, "OK, Lieutenant, just go easy with it for the next couple of days—and try not to do that again," looking at her sternly.

She returned his gaze sheepishly and replied, "I'll try." She paused and said, "Dr. McCoy, I, umm…I." She paused again and then said in a rush, "I'm kind of afraid I, uh…went too far. I didn't actually hit him—I really wanted to—but I didn't, but, umm…I still think he'll write me up, at the very least. I think this falls pretty squarely under 'not respecting the chain of command'." Suddenly looking very worried and sad, she muttered, "If that happens, I don't know what I'll say to Spock. I think, even though I was defending him, that he'd be pretty disappointed in my behavior…" she looked down and trailed off.

The doctor noted that she seemed to be less concerned about possibly being written up—or worse—than about Spock's potential reaction to it—go figure. He shook his head and replied, "Well, I can't speak for the commander, but I can tell you what Jim will do, or rather, what he won't do. He's not going to write you up for this; I can guarantee that. Hell, I don't think he would write you up even if you had hit him." Nyota's head snapped up at that, and he continued, "He genuinely feels awful about having hurt Spock like he did, and I don't think there's much of anything that you could do to him, short of outright killing him, that would get you into trouble with him over your reaction. And come to think of it, if you did kill him, you'd be in trouble with other people, but not him, because he'd be dead."

Nyota had to smile a little at the absurdity of this statement, which was Bones' intent. She replied, "Thanks, Doctor. I guess I'll try not to worry about it, then." She paused for a beat and then said, "And Doctor? Thanks for not fussing at me."

"Hey, you're welcome. Sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

Nyota nodded but didn't say anything in response.

Bones noted her continued look of agitation and decided it would be a good time to have a talk with her. There were some things she needed to know to have a fuller picture of the relationship between the captain and the first officer. He looked her squarely in the eyes and said, "Lieutenant Uhura, there are other developments that you should know about. Would you come into my office so we can discuss them?" He wasn't sure how long this would take, and he didn't want to keep an exam room occupied unnecessarily.

She was so surprised, all she could do was to nod and stammer, "Uh, sure, Doctor. Lead the way."

After telling the front desk staff that he would be in consultation in his office and therefore unavailable, they made their way to the untidy room, Nyota couldn't help but remember the last conversation she'd had there. It had been with Kirk, and she'd asked—no, practically begged—him not to get discouraged trying to be Spock's friend. At the moment, she was bitterly regretting having had that conversation—she couldn't know it would have made no difference, as Jim really would have persevered on his own anyway—and the past wasn't giving her much hope for the conversation that she suspected was about to take place. But, she knew the doctor could often be very sensible about relationships, despite having a bitter ex-wife in his own past, so she decided to hear him out.

In an eerily familiar replay of that earlier time, the doctor gestured her into the desk chair while he moved a pile of PADDs from another one. He dusted the seat with a handkerchief and then he straddled the chair facing the back. He leaned his arms on the chair back and sat regarding her with an odd, appraising look. After a while, he decided on what to say.

"Well, first off, Lieutenant Uhura…" he paused already and said, "Oh, hell, that's a mouthful." He took a breath and came to a decision. "Say, can I call you 'Ny-chan'?" She blinked at him, clearly surprised, so he nervously tried to explain, "I know that Jim calls you 'Ny'—and I know that you know that he told me because he told me that he'd told you that he'd told me" he babbled himself to a halt. He thought, Oh jeez, way to blather on, Leonard! I'm usually more collected than this…well, I hope so anyway. Guess I'm just nervous because I don't know how she'll take this, plus I'm maybe about to go way out on a limb here about Jim…and about Spock, too… He stumbled through the rest, "But that, uh… doesn't seem to quite fit you, somehow… but 'Ny-chan' really does, so umm…would that be OK?" He repeated Jim's nickname for her with the affectionate honorific tacked onto the end, something he'd picked up from watching Japanese anime with the captain. He was fully aware that the honorific was more typically appended to a surname, rather than an abbreviated version of a given name, although that did happen on occasion with close friends. But, as he told her, "Ny-chan" just seemed to suit her.

She looked at him a moment in wide-eyed, open-mouthed amazement, and although she was still too angry to give this stumbling speech the laughter it really deserved, she giggled a tiny bit at the apparent absurdity of the usually collected, articulate doctor fumbling for words on top of coming out with this rather unique version of her name. She was familiar with the Japanese system of honorifics, so she knew what he was trying to convey with the term. She had heard of his and the captain's shared interest in anime, but it still surprised her, although at the same time, she found it oddly endearing. She smiled a bit wider than she had since she'd first talked to Christine, and she said, "Well, after that, how could I possibly say 'No'?" After a slight pause, she decided to clarify, "That is, you may call me 'Ny-chan' as long as I get to call you something less formal than 'Dr. McCoy'…but I really don't want to call you 'Bones'," she added. Nyota left the reason for that unsaid, but they both knew it was because it was primarily the captain's name for him.

McCoy considered and then said, "OK, it can be your choice—take your pick: 'Len,' 'Lenny,' or 'Leonard'."

She tried them out in turn and then returned to one. "'Lenny'," she said again and nodded, "That's the one, 'Lenny'."

They exchanged a smile, and they both unwound as the atmosphere became less strained and more friendly. He slapped his hands on his knees and said, "Well, then, Ny-chan, we're in bidness," using one of his favorite Southernisms before bringing his arms up to rest on the chair back once again. He looked at her for another long moment, then he took a deep breath and began, "Well, obviously you now know there was a serious problem between Jim and Spock while you were away at the star base."

She nodded and said, "Luckily, I was clued in by a friend before anyone had the chutzpah to ask me—that would have been really embarrassing to admit I didn't even know about it!"

He nodded and said, "You have my sympathy. It can be hard when people assume that you're 'the person who knows' but you don't really know any more than anyone else. I was kind of in the same boat as you on this one; I was holed up in the lab trying to lick that respiratory infection, and I didn't find out there was any kind of problem until it was practically over, and even then, I never knew what really happened between them. I don't think anyone knows that but the two of them." He gave her a little time to absorb this, and he said, "So, anyway, I'm glad you were told that something had happened before you were asked." He paused again before saying rather slowly, "But that's not the only thing that's been going on between them…" he trailed off and regarded her again with that same strange speculative look as previously.

She pressed, "Lenny, you've been giving me that weird look off and on since we got to your office. Just spit it out, already, whatever it is you want to tell me!"

He shook his head and said, "You're not ready to hear that part yet; I have to give you the background first." Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline and she was about to start a spluttering protest that she was ready to hear anything he was ready to say when he silenced her with another shake of his head and a look of mock sternness before saying, "All in good time, Ny-chan, all in good time."

She sat back, crossed her arms over her chest, and sighed, "OK, Lenny; I guess it is your prerogative to tell me in your own way…"

"Damn straight," McCoy agreed. His nervousness flared as he wondered if he should get into an odd idea he had about the captain and the first officer, but he held off making a decision on that point. There were enough other things to impart at the moment. He took a deep breath and then launched into his narrative, beginning with the time he'd shown up at the captain's ready room the evening the two men had managed to repair their friendship—he really got her attention when he told her about how contrite Jim was over the whole thing—and ending with the night he and Jim had given Spock advice on how to talk to people he didn't know at parties. However, he omitted any mention of the physical interactions he had witnessed between his two friends.

It was amazing enough for her to hear about the doctor and the first officer teaming up to razz the captain, but she stared at McCoy in open-mouthed astonishment during his account of Spock's brilliant justification of wanting to make Jim laugh. When he came out with the part where Spock parodied his own "Damn it, Jim, I'm a…" line, she surprised both of them by actually laughing along with him. And she cracked up again when he told her about the exchange during his second visit that lead to his telling the captain that only he could end up playing straight man to a Vulcan.

When she was stopped laughing, she remarked, "Wow, that's almost unbelievable." The mood had become significantly lighter over the course of the doctor's account, so she now looked at him in apparent complete seriousness and asked, "Now, you're sure, absolutely 100% sure that that was actually Spock in the ready room those times, not some weird clone from an alternate universe?"

He answered gravely, "Well, I'm as sure as I can be that it was the real Spock, but if it wasn't, how would I necessarily know?"

She replied, "Hmmm, I guess you've got a point there…"

They both laughed again, and then McCoy cleared his throat and said, "Now back to the matter at hand…"

Nyota looked at him in surprise and asked, "You mean there's more?"

His answer was to give her another strange look and mutter almost under his breath, "You don't know the half of it!"

She uncrossed her arms and sat leaning forward and gripping the arms of the chair as she said, "Well then, tell me already!" her voice betraying a teeny bit of impatience.

He still hesitated a moment, uncertain how she would react to what he was about to tell her: would she take it well, possibly even approve, or would she want to kill Jim all over again? He cleared his throat and said, "OK, here goes." Another deep breath, then, "Spock lets Jim touch him."

She stared at him and asked, "You mean, the captain said that Spock allows him to do that?" Even after the revelation that the first officer and the doctor were becoming friends, she still couldn't imagine her reserved Vulcan ex-boyfriend discussing such a thing with him. That McCoy might be referring to something he had witnessed, rather than something he had simply been told, never even crossed her mind.

He shook his head and set her straight. "No, I mean that Spock lets Jim touch him. I saw it myself…twice in one evening, in the captain's ready room, actually." He took in her look of near-shock and continued a bit hesitantly, "Uh, yeah…it seems they've, uh… got this thing going where Jim reaches toward him, umm…asking permission as it were, and Spock, uh… nods if it's OK for the captain to touch him. It's one of the damndest things I ever saw." He paused, remembering a conversation he'd had with Jim later, after his initial surprise had worn off. He continued, "I collared Jim on his own later, and I found out that the first time they had one of these…uh, exchanges, was when they went to see that amber exhibit. And it's gone on since then…" At her sudden dark look, he hastily added, "Except for that unfortunate…err, interruption…" She nodded in acknowledgement—they shouldn't forget why they were having this conversation, after all—and then he finished, "And it's now gotten to the point where they're both comfortable letting me see them do it."

Nyota's angry expression had fled, and her remaining stare took on a goggle-eyed quality as Bones went on, "Anyway, the first time while I was with them, Jim just grabbed one of Spock's shoulders and kind of shook it a little, you know, pretty much normal guy-to-guy contact…well for humans anyway, though I guess not so much for Vulcans." He laughed a little at the relative absurdity of this statement before continuing, "But then the second time—I'll never forget it, they were standing at the door as Spock was about to leave, but he was still being kind of nervous about the party—and so Jim put his arm all the way around Spock's shoulders and kind of hugged him while he reassured him, reminded him that he'd faced down Nero, so surely he could handle a party." As her mouth dropped open further, he held up his hand and said, "No, wait, here's the real kicker: Spock leaned against him a little when he did that, even though I was right there watching them." He took in her look of incredulity and said, "Yeah, I don't blame you for looking like that; I almost couldn't believe it, either, and I saw it!"

She sat in stunned silence absorbing these revelations. She knew that Spock had opened up to Jim unusually quickly, but still, for the first officer to allow the captain to touch him in this way was, well, simply amazing. But when she thought about it, she realized that perhaps she should not have been so surprised. His bodily response to her during their romantic relationship had led her to believe that he probably did need some level of physical contact, due to his human heritage (although she was also aware, if this were indeed the case, that he probably couldn't consciously admit it to himself). But none-the-less, this open affection between the two men was simply not something that she had ever expected to happen. True, there was, of course, the occasional punch on the shoulder she'd observed the captain giving his first officer, but she didn't think those were in the same category of physical contact that the doctor had observed. And even though she suspected that almost 100% of such interactions were being initiated by the captain, she also knew from her own experience, that it wouldn't be happening at all except that the half-Vulcan was readily allowing it. For rare though those occasions were during their romantic relationship when he hadn't want her to touch him when they had had privacy, he had always told her immediately when that was the case.

Even more surprising was that Spock was apparently beginning to reciprocate in some small way, if the doctor was to be believed, and she really had no reason to doubt him. And that brought her to consider the most astonishing thing of all: Spock had allowed someone to witness the physical affection between the captain and himself. She knew from personal experience how very reluctant he was to engage in any public display of affection. The only times with her, ever, had been on that day of unimaginable grief and terror, when he had kissed her on the transporter pad (an exchange which she had initiated) and then had grabbed her hands when he had somehow returned to the ship alive and unhurt. But other than on that one, extraordinary day, he had never touched her in front of anyone.

So just what did it mean, that her ex-boyfriend so readily allowed the captain to touch him, to the point where the men had established a routine around this behavior? And what did it mean that Spock was apparently just fine with an affectionate exchange between them being witnessed on a perfectly normal, non-extraordinary day? Had he been so very discrete with her, even after there was no longer any need for discretion, because they had been in a romantic relationship, while what was going on with the captain must obviously be motivated by friendship instead (and it was only that…wasn't it?) and so it didn't matter to him if it was observed or not?

As various thoughts and emotions chased each other across her face, McCoy said, "Yeah, I'm still trying to make sense of it, too."

She sat blinking at him for a few moments before she finally spoke. "Well, I'm about as surprised by this as anything in my entire life." She was silent again, gathering her thoughts before continuing slowly, "But, if this is something that Spock wants—and obviously he does, since he certainly wouldn't be allowing it otherwise…" she trailed off. Then anger flashed briefly in her eyes as she said, "But that makes it even more critical that the captain not play around with Spock's emotions. If Spock has come to depend on him in that way, then…" she trailed off again.

McCoy fixed a speculative gaze on her, and he almost brought up his theory regarding this rather unexpected behavior between the captain and the first officer, but then he decided against it. Better to let her observe them herself and draw her own conclusions and not affect her judgment with his ideas. There would be time to discuss such things later, if need be. His slight lingering nervousness vanished as he decided to keep these particular thoughts to himself: no need to go out on a limb today.

The doctor shook his head to dismiss what he'd been considering, saying instead, "Agreed." He looked at her for a moment and then said, "I know that Spock's an adult, and he can make his own decisions, but I also know that you're a very important person in his life, and your opinion matters to him. He can, of course, decide to be friends with Jim, regardless of what you think, but I know he'll be a lot happier if you support him in this. And I really, truly think that Jim has learned his lesson here, so I think you should forgive him and give this friendship your blessing."

Nyota narrowed her eyes at him and asked in a suddenly suspicious voice, "Lenny, you're not just saying that because you're the captain's friend, are you?"

He looked back at her, slightly hurt, and replied, "Ny-chan, haven't you been paying attention? Don't you understand that I'm now Spock's friend, too? I'm not going to advocate for something that I think might end up hurting him, regardless of how much Jim might want it."

She looked at him, chastened, and said with some embarrassment, "I'm sorry, Lenny. I really do know that, but it's so new to me I guess I didn't remember to take that into account. I'll be better about it in the future." Her expression changed suddenly to one of deep gratitude and she said, "And thanks, by the way, for wanting to be Spock's friend. He lost so very much, and I'm really, really grateful he's not so alone anymore."

The doctor answered, "You're welcome, shug," briefly reverting to his Southern roots with the quaint endearment. "I'm glad things worked out that way, too, although I can't say I'm happy about the circumstances that precipitated it."

Nyota nodded in agreement and said, "Amen to that."

McCoy paused for a moment and then said, "Ny-chan, I can see that you've calmed down a lot, now that you have a better idea of what all's been going on." She nodded again, and he asked, almost pleading, "So, umm…can't you go ahead and forgive Jim?"

She sighed and answered, "Oh, Lenny, I don't know. I'm going to—that is, I, umm…I guess I am anyway—but, what he did was just so awful, I'm not sure if I can just yet…"

He pressed, "Well, Spock has forgiven him, and you can see they both really want this friendship. And if you've ever tried to be friends with two people who are fighting with each other…well, you know how uncomfortable that can be."

She sighed again and said, "That's true, what you just said, and I don't want to put Spock in that uncomfortable position, but…well, I don't know. I really kind of hated the captain there for a bit—well, maybe it's more accurate to say I hated what he did—but I have to admit that most of the anger I was feeling toward him is gone. And I know Spock wants to be friends with Jim." McCoy smiled to hear her slip back into calling the captain by his first name—she was coming around, slowly it was true, but she was coming around.

She paused briefly before continuing, "And, I also have to admit that, outside of this one incident, that Jim has been very good for Spock. They were just starting to be friends when I left for the star base, but from what you've told me, he's really been able to draw Spock out, get him to try new things, even relax enough to openly tell jokes, let himself be touched, and I don't know…somehow…tap into his human side more, which I think is one of the best things anyone could do."

Nyota now gave the doctor a brilliant smile and said, "Plus, it was through Jim that Spock has now become friends with you, and I'm really grateful for that." She paused again. "And so for all those reasons, I really wish I could tell Spock that I'll support his wanting to be friends with Jim." Another pause and a sigh. "But, I don't know if the captain can be trusted to behave or if he might just do this kind of thing again. Yes, I know you told me what Jim said about getting you to knock some sense into him if he ever did it again, but that doesn't tell me that he won't. And Spock doesn't need someone in his life who's just going to jerk him around. He's been through way too much for that. The captain says he knows what he did, but I don't know…" She sighed and said again, "I just wish I could be sure that if he can be trusted from here on out…" She trailed off.

McCoy looked at her speculatively for a long moment and then decided to take a chance. He suspected from her uncharacteristic violence toward Jim (or at least toward one of his chairs) that she already knew the worst possible consequence of the rift between the captain and the first officer. He could be wrong, of course, but if he could manage to find out just how much she knew, there might be something that he could share with her that would ease her mind on the question of Jim's trustworthiness in the future. But he had to tread carefully, because if he was wrong, if she didn't actually know the potential end-point of their dispute, he would make things worse instead of better.

He cleared his throat and began, "Umm, Ny-chan, do you, umm…do you know what might have happened if Jim and Spock hadn't been able to patch things up?

She compressed her mouth in anger as she gave him a sharp look, and after a moment she replied, "I think I do…well, yes, I do, if you're talking about Spock almost getting to the point of requesting a transfer."

He nodded, "Yep, that's it, alright." As her expression darkened further, he hastened to add, "Well, there's something you should know about that before you make up your mind about Jim, but you absolutely, positively have to promise me that you won't tell him that I told you."

She turned a curious gaze on him, held up her hand Girl-Scout-like and said, "I promise, Scout's honor."

He took a deep breath and prepared himself. While he knew that what he was about to say had almost certainly been divulged with the expectation of confidentiality—even though there probably had not really been much thought at all when the information came spilling out—he decided that it was important enough that she know this for him to make an exception to his normally very strict rule about such things. The reason he could, he knew, was that during the incident in question, he had not been acting in his capacity as a doctor bound by the strict confidentiality required by medical ethics, but in his capacity as a friend, bound by the looser personal code of ethics that included, on occasion, leeway to break such confidences when there was real need. Sometimes, the ends really did justify the means.

McCoy said, "Maybe this will help you make up your mind." Deep breath. "A couple of days after they made up, Jim was supposed to meet me in the officers' lounge after he and Spock finished working on a transfer request—something he didn't think would take very much time—but he never showed. He didn't call, and he didn't answer his communicator. The computer said he was in the captain's ready room, so I went to check on him. He didn't answer the door chime, either, so I used my medical override code to get in, thinking he might be unconscious or might be having some other kind of serious health emergency."

He paused and shook his head at the memory before continuing, "Jim was sitting at the table with his back to me and with his head in his hands. I was barely in the door—he didn't even look around at me, but somehow he knew who it was even before I opened my mouth—and he just said abruptly, 'Go away, Bones. I don't need a doctor.' So I said, 'Well, I'm not here as your doctor; I'm here as your friend,' and he glanced at me at that point and said, 'Well, I could use one of those,' and that's why I can tell you anything about our conversation at all." Her eyes widened slightly and then nodded to show she understood.

The doctor went on, "Jim wasn't crying at that point, but I could see that he had been; your face doesn't get that puffy, slightly sticky look or your eyes get so red and bloodshot without doing that." Nyota looked unimpressed, and the doctor fixed her with a sharp gaze. "Now, I don't think there's any way you could know this, but Jim just doesn't cry…about anything. I've been best friends with him since the day we met on that transport—you were on it, too, as I recall—plus I roomed with him for all our years at the Academy. In all that time, I've never seen him cry, or ever seen him when it looked like he might have been, not even after everything that happened with the Narada. So that night in the ready room was the first time, ever." Nyota was now looking at him in surprise, and he continued, "I'm telling you because I want you to know that this sort of thing isn't an everyday occurrence for James Tiberius Kirk. You should think about that."

She considered what it might mean. The captain, crying over what he'd done to Spock, when according to the doctor, the man never cried about anything? Why should that be? She remembered then at one point having heard Spock say that Jim had a talent for bringing out his emotions. Perhaps the first officer also had a talent for bringing out the captain's emotions in return. Her expression softened as she retreated slightly from her hard stance and she said, "Go on…"

McCoy picked up his narrative. "He just sat for a while not saying anything, but then he kind of whispered, 'I almost screwed up big time, Bones, I mean really big time,' and then he said he couldn't even remember when he'd done something worse. So I asked him if this had anything to do with his falling out with Spock, and he just nodded and ducked his head, like he was going to cry if he tried to say anything else. For once, I didn't press him, like I normally would have, because I could see how distressed he was, so I just said I was there to listen if he wanted to talk. Well, apparently, that was the right thing to say because then the whole story about Spock almost putting in a transfer request came tumbling out. He said how he'd known that he'd hurt Spock during their 'misunderstanding,' but he hadn't known how very badly until this came out. And then he kept saying how he almost couldn't believe he'd been such a total jerk, and how incredibly grateful he was that Spock was giving him another chance, especially seeing as how it was one of the worst things he'd ever done to someone who actually cared about him and whom he cared about in return."

Nyota had been looking down, but her head snapped up at this information. Was this was why his falling out with his first officer was so upsetting to the captain? Perhaps it was true, what he said about genuinely caring about Spock. He wouldn't say something like that to the doctor if it weren't true, would he? For a moment, she considered what she had just heard and then she remarked, "Well, I have to admit this is encouraging. It's the sort of thing I wanted to know about him, and it's good to hear that he recognizes what a shit he was. And I'm especially pleased that he knows how lucky he is that Spock is willing to try being friends with him despite what he did." After a moment she added, "And it's good that the captain understands that Spock truly cares about him. That is a precious gift that he shouldn't take lightly."

The doctor nodded in agreement before saying, "I don't think he does take it lightly, Ny-chan. Remember, he also said he cares about Spock, too, and he wouldn't say that if it weren't true. That's another thing he doesn't do; he doesn't make false statements about what he feels." He looked at her earnestly as she nodded to indicate understanding in her turn.

McCoy went on, "But there's still more." He took another breath before saying, "He then told me something else that's going to surprise the hell out of you." Nyota fixed him with an intently curious gaze and he went on, "Jim said he got 'really emotional' when Spock was with him in the ready room and they were talking about all this stuff. The commander apparently realized how upset Jim was, and so Spock put his arm around him and said that he shouldn't feel bad, the 'incident' was closed and they just needed to put it behind them. Jim said he was so surprised that Spock would take the initiative to comfort him like that, and that somehow, probably because he was taken off guard by it, he was able to hold things together as long as the commander was in the room with him. Of course, after Spock left, it was thinking about what our pointy-eared hobgoblin had just said and done—once again so easily dismissing what Jim had done to him—that made him completely lose it. It was a while after that that I showed up to check on him."

Nyota sat absorbing this new information from the doctor. She felt reassured by what he'd told her, and she was beginning to think that yes, Jim probably could be trusted, as much as humans, those wildly variable creatures, can ever be completely trusted. And it was also reassuring in an odd way to have confirmation that the affection between the two men was indeed a two-way street and was not initiated solely by Jim. This signified a certain comfort level on Spock's part with this aspect of their relationship, and she thought it was good thing (as long as Jim could refrain from jerking him around), being, as it was, a way to reach his human side. And it was in embracing his human side as well as his Vulcan side that Nyota thought he would finally become comfortable in his own skin and be happy with who he was. If Jim could help get him there, well, OK, that was good, and so she should probably support Spock's desire to be friends with him. She just had to make sure the man knew there would be serious consequences if he proved untrustworthy in the future.

McCoy had been watching her changing expression and decided to press home the advantage. He said, "There's one more thing you should know. While Jim and I were talking, he came to the realization that if he hadn't come to his senses when he did, and if Spock had actually asked for a transfer, that he would have snapped out of it when he saw that request. He would have begged Spock to forgive him and then would have asked him to withdraw it. So, we probably didn't really come as close to losing Spock as it looked like initially. But I'm glad, and I know that Jim is very glad, that it didn't come to that after all."

She frowned a little and asked, "If that's so, why didn't he say so when I confronted him? It was something he could have said in his own defense." She shook her head, truly mystified as she said, "Especially since I even said if things hadn't worked out that night that Spock might already be gone…" She paused a moment before finishing, "I guess I don't get it."

The doctor gave her a probing look and asked, "Do you really think you would have been willing to hear it then? Wouldn't it have just made you more angry, like he was trying to justify what he did, like it hadn't been such a very bad thing after all?"

She started slightly at the realization that McCoy was absolutely right: that is exactly how she would have reacted had Jim said anything along those lines. She sighed and nodded her agreement while saying. "Yeah, you're right about that—it wouldn't have done any good for me to hear it at that point." She was then quite for a while, chewing it all over.

Nyota suddenly asked, "What would he have done if Spock had still wanted to go through with the transfer? Did he say?"

The doctor hesitated only a moment before he answered, "Uh, yeah; he said he was of two minds about that. One part of him thought he wouldn't try to stop Spock from leaving, out of respect for the friendship that might have been between them if he, Jim, hadn't screwed up so royally. But the other part would have wanted to stop him from leaving by any means necessary—and I got the impression, although he didn't specifically say—that those means would have included physical restraint along the lines of a hug—but only if necessary, you understand." He gave her another odd look.

Nyota saw the strange look that accompanied the doctor's final statement, but she decided not to respond. There was clearly something he was thinking that he was unwilling to say, and she was now becoming too tired to press him about it. She brought her thoughts back to consider the main question of forgiving the captain.

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes as she thought things over, her expression slowing changing to cautious acceptance. McCoy started to smile and he said, "So, Ny-chan, are you feeling reassured, like Jim really can be trusted? Are you ready to forgive him?"

She gave him a tentative smile in return and said, "Oh, I suppose so. But I'd like to let him stew for a few days before I tell him."

Bones frowned a little and reminded her, "You know that party for Chekov is tomorrow night—oh, you do know about that, right?" She nodded and he continued, "Well, it would be great if you could go ahead and tell Jim you forgive him before that, since you're planning on doing it anyway. I would hate to see this put a damper on things, because if Jim is still all bummed out, I can pretty much guarantee that that will end up affecting Spock in a negative way. And I know you don't want that."

She sighed and answered, "Oh, Lenny, you're right…once again, you're right. I was just so, so, so angry with Jim that I wanted him to suffer for a few days, but I suppose that's petty and mean-spirited and really beneath me. I can't say I'm all upset and mad at Jim for what he did to Spock and then turn around and do something myself that ultimately ends up hurting the man I'm trying to protect." Her eyes widened with sudden awareness and she briefly put her hand to her mouth before saying, "I just realized that I kind of did that, even though what I was trying to do was to protect Spock. I couldn't leave well enough alone when I found out—it was such a shock and it made me so angry—but I probably just should have left it. As far as they were concerned, it was all over and done with, and all I did was to make both of them deal with it all over again—Spock, too, not just Jim." She shook her head at herself, "Oh, man. Well, Jim's sure not the only screw-up here..."

McCoy then said, "Well, in my opinion, you were completely justified in wanted to vet Jim for trustworthiness, and for the rest, I don't think you should blame yourself too much, Ny-chan. I think it was the shock that did. If Spock had just emailed you about this, especially after they'd fixed it, I bet it would have been a very different story when you got back to the ship."

Nyota looked at him gratefully and said, "Thanks, Lenny. And I think you're right about that; it was because he'd concealed it from me that I got so upset when I finally heard about it, because I then automatically assumed it was really bad." But, before she could get off on another angry tangent, she remembered another surprising thing that Spock had done but which she had pushed aside due to everything else. She now laughed a little and said, "You won't believe it, but Spock actually tried to bluff at first when I asked him about it. "

The doctor's eyebrows shot up at that, but then he chuckled and said, "Well, you know, I would have been surprised to hear that a few days ago, but not now…no, not now."

She replied ironically, "As you can imagine, that did wonders for my mood, didn't at all start me thinking what he was trying to conceal must be really super bad, oh, no." She paused and shook her head. "I obviously need to tell Spock he should keep people in the loop when he's got problems. Then there's much less chance of an over-reaction."

"Good idea," the doctor replied. He was quiet a moment and then asked, "So, umm… when will you tell Jim that you forgive him?"

Nyota replied, "Well, I don't want to tell him tonight—he can have one rough night out of this—but I will tell him tomorrow before the party, as early in the day as I can manage." She was quiet a moment and then added, "But I'll go ahead and let Spock know tonight that I'm forgiving Jim. After all, I don't want him to have a bad night, too."

McCoy smiled and said, "Good girl, Ny-chan! Now, go fill Spock in on your plans and then get to bed. You and that hand need some rest."

Nyota smiled back, replying, "Thanks, Lenny. And thanks for everything. I'm feeling much, much better after our talk."

"You're welcome. Now go," he said, with mock gruffness as he got up and opened the door for her.

She waved and sailed off, calling back over her shoulder, "See you tomorrow," as she prepared herself to talk to Spock for the second time that evening.


Author's Note

UPDATE MARCH 2, 2O14, to anyone who just got to this chapter: this is the point at which I instituted a couple of basic changes back when this chapter was originally posted (mid-July 2013), but I didn't get around to correcting the earlier chapters until today. So you may have seen the watch schedule or the location of the ready room change with no note of explanation—sorry for any confusion. I moved the primary watch for the senior officers to second watch, which in Starfleet in my universe means 0800 to 1600 hours, with first watch being 0000 to 0800 hours and third watch being 1600 to 2400 hours. It was too hard for me to think of them going to work at, well, midnight. So I've switched their work day to mirror my own. This is also why I made the watches eight hours, even though they're actually just four hours in the Navy. The reason, again, is that this is the length of my work day, so…

I also changed the location of Jim's primary office to be in the captain's ready room. I had been thinking of the ready room as just a sort of conference room, but I did a little more reading about the Star Trek world and found out that in some cases, the captain's office was in the ready room. That made a lot of sense, so I made this change.

And finally, many thanks to my husband for the idea to have Bones call Nyota "Ny-chan." I think it really does suit her.