There, another chapter fresh from my computer just for you! :)
I don't know about your place but here in northern Germany, the weather is sunny and warm today - that I am still sitting inside editing and posting a new chapter shows my undying love for you readers... Especially those who I know by name (or rather, alias), which is DancingInTheDark85 (Yes, you're so right! I am very relieved myself that I can write Bones more In Character again...! I hope you enjoy this one.).

Chapter's warnings: explicit reference to rape! If you don't want to read that, just skip the passages in Italics. Swearing Jim. Awesome Spock.

Mind in its purest play is like some bat

that beats about in caverns all alone,

contriving by a kind of senseless wit

not to conclude against a wall of stone.

It has no need to falter or explore;

darkly it knows what obstacles are there,

and so may weave and flitter, dip and soar

in perfect courses through the blackest air.

And has this simile a like perfection?

The mind is like a bat. Precisely. Save

that in the very happiest intellection

a graceful error may correct the cave.

- Mind, Richard Wilbur

Chapter 7: A Beautiful Mind

Once again, Leonard wondered how he'd ended up in this very situation.

It really was becoming a default setting; with him in some place he'd rather not be and having no idea how it had come to this. At this moment, he'd give almost anything not to do what he needed to do - which was giving Spock admittance into his head.

The half-Vulcan had arrived a day ago with a transport from New Vulcan and, after some obligatory visits to Admiralty, had sought out his Captain and CMO. McCoy would have preferred if Spock had taken his time: after his decision to take his case to court, he'd been so sure of himself. He still was convinced it was the right decision, but the idea of a Vulcan inside his mind - even if it was to gather much needed evidence - was very unsettling.

'It's not some strange Vulcan. It's Spock.'

Enterprise's first officer was the only person with telepathic abilities that he would willingly allow to share his thoughts with. Leonard was most of the time ad odds with Spock; disliking the dispassionate logic and strict abiding of rules and often arguing about the appropriate course of action. They were both just as thickheaded about it as the other, too; and McCoy knew the Vulcan was sometimes just as exasperated and annoyed with him as he was. The thought of sharing his most painful memory with him was horrifying.

Yet...he knew Spock would handle this as careful and respectful as possible. He was decent; Leonard knew this with complete certainty. Though Spock was firstly Jim's friend, he'd seen enough of him to realize there was actually a heart with emotions beating inside the man (even if it was not in his chest but rather where the liver would be in a human).

So Leonard's hands were only marginally shaking as he lay down on the couch in his and Jim's shared quarters, his head resting on Jim's legs with Spock on a stool next to him (Jim'd suggested the bed; and although it'd have been much more comfortable, McCoy had flat-out refused to lie in a bed with Spock).

The half-Vulcan searched McCoy's gaze and cleared his throat.

"Doctor, I am fully aware that this doesn't have your approval. Please be assured that I would not do this if I knew another way to prove at court that..," he hesitated briefly, "...that it was indeed a sexual assault-"

"-'Cause everybody will think that I did it for top grades." Leonard finished bitterly. Spock inclined his head.

"It pains me to agree to this assessment, but since your grades at university were indeed excellent, I am afraid that some might attribute it to that; rather than your exceptional talent."

McCoy raised his eyebrows and looked at Jim, who grinned. "I think he just complimented you, Bones."

"Though Doctor McCoy and myself disagree on certain things, I regard his medical skills very highly." Spock stated flatly.

"Well, uhm, let's get this over with." The southerner mumbled, uncomfortably touched by the first officer's words. Spock nodded and looked Leonard in the eyes.

"Please listen attentively, Doctor," he began, "for this is of utmost importance. The art of the vulcan mind meld is...difficult and susceptible to disturbances. You need to relax and grant me access to your thoughts and emotions. It is necessary for you to have a certain amount of trust in me."

"Yeah, well, I'll do my best, Spock," McCoy replied, shifting restlessly on Jim's lap. "But remember this isn't exactly gonna be a joyride for me!"

"I am aware of that. Still, I want to make it as comfortable as possible for you and prevent any injury."

"Injury?" Jim interrupted, concerned. The half-Vulcan inclined his head again.

"If at some point the Doctor's mind refuses me, or even starts to battle against me, it can result in the Pa'nar Syndrome, which is a degenerative neurological disorder. It is curable," he hurried on when he saw the stricken faces of the other two men, "but it causes paranoia and hallucinations, sometimes uncontrolled anger; I'd prefer to forego that."

"'Paranoia and uncontrolled anger'," Leonard repeated, regarding the pointy-eared man before him calmly. "Can't imagine how that'd be."

Jim smiled but kept looking at Spock intensely. "But I thought a meld can be forced as well?"

"It can, indeed. But it almost always results in a mental trauma; at least for the subject. That is why I want you to know that I will proceed with care, Doctor," he said, focusing on McCoy again. "I will seek out the memory we need but advance no further. You can help me by thinking about the...incident."

Leonard simply nodded, mutely. Kirk stroked his hair and placed a kiss on his lover's forehead. "I'll be here the whole time," he whispered, "I'm not gonna leave."

The Vulcan looked a bit uncomfortable with the display of affection between his fellow officer and his captain but said nothing. Finally, Leonard sighed and nodded towards Spock. "I'm ready."

"Alright. Please relax now, Doctor." Spock placed his fingers on the key locations on McCoy's face. "My mind to your mind..."

...His fingers are digging into the cold, unfeeling surface he was lying on...

"NO!" McCoy shouted, sitting up, breathing heavily. His lover grabbed his shoulder, worry on his face. "Bones, calm down!"

Spock cleared his throat again, seeming slightly agitated. "Doctor, I...I need you to relax and not fight my presence. I know this is difficult-"

"Ya don' know shit, Spock!"

"Bones!"

The Vulcan contemplated the shaking man in front of him for a moment, then stood up. Disconcerted, Kirk watched him walk around the room. "What are you doing?"

The black-haired man returned with a candle, set it on the couch table and lit it. Collecting a little stick of something from his pockets, he answered: "This is vulcan incense. It helps to calm the mind and focus the thoughts; I assumed we might need it."

Igniting the stick, Spock raised his voice: "Computer, play piece nr. 204-V from Lieutenant-Commander Spock's musical data base. Volume to 20 percent."

At once, a soft melody started, unlike anything the two humans had ever heard. They stared at Spock as if he'd just happily sprouted feelers, surprise evident on their faces. The Vulcan lifted a shoulder in a quite human fashion. "It is a meditation tune, designed to spark pleasant memories and thoughts. I want to try a different approach."

Sitting back down, Spock lowered his voice again. "Doctor, I want you to remember your fondest memories. Focus on the circumstances, the environment, the sounds - do you see it?"

"Yes," McCoy breathed after a moment, eyes closed. Returning his fingers to his face, Spock closed his eyes as well and mumbled once again: "My mind to your mind..."

...He was in a hospital; in a patient's room. Sunlight was streaming through the window, highlighting the polished floor and the metal bars of the biobed. Inside, there was a woman with dark brown hair, much darker than his own. In her arms was an infant, a newborn. The woman smiled down on the tiny baby, crooning softly. Then she lifted her eyes; looking at him. Holding out the baby towards him.

"Meet your daughter, Leonard."

Slowly, his arms lifted, taking the child gently. Her eyes were closed, she was sleeping peacefully. She had the softest patch of hazel hair over her forehead. He bent his head, kissing the innocent, beautiful creature. "Joanna..."

Spock felt Leonard's love towards his daughter; felt her warmth and the softness of her skin. Rousing himself, he concentrated again. This was not what he was looking for - though a small part of him wanted to linger; to stay in that sun-filled room. Moving on, he felt himself drawn to another memory.

...He wanted to just close his eyes and sink completely into this abyss of heat, sweat and scent. He looked up upon his lover instead, taking in the smooth skin, shining with tiny drops of moisture, almost glowing in the descending twilight. The heaving chest of his captain with that light, almost imperceptible layer of fur, and above that, the tilted head with that fine, long neck, the exposed throat, the parted lips... His chest tightened with joy and gratitude; blessing the gods for this moment with the man he loved...

He was himself again, and yet not; the ghost of a love so strong and all-consuming it was almost painful still lingered. He had experienced a mind meld with a human before, but never had it been this... intense. Spock/Leonard shook with the passion the memory conveyed; though a large part of them felt uncomfortable by what they'd just seen. This was not for Spock's eyes.

Carefully distancing himself from the scene of consumed love, he moved on again. He needed to find what he was looking for.

There was a dark part. Clouded. It was what he sought. Moving closer, he felt an invisible wall before him, hindering him to proceed any further. Spock/Leonard parted his lips, whispering without a voice: "Let us in. Trust us. Trust us."

Slowly, the fog began to dissolve.

...The man is sitting at his desk but is standing up when we come in. He is dressed in his usual, tailored suit with expensive looking shoes. He is much older than us. We feel uncomfortable in his presence - he often makes inappropriate compliments. We ask him what he needs us for. He wants us to look at an experiment - we do so and give our opinion of it. We feel him leaning against us while we speak, his hand on our back. It feels wrong; it shouldn't be there. He offers us a drink we know is not healthy - we say as much. We want to go now. He says he is interested in us. We caught his eye. We are handsome - we do not feel that way. He tries to kiss us but we don't let him. -Anger-

He makes a proposal. We deny; we are disgusted that he thinks he can convince us to submit so easily.

-Pride- We push him away. We will go now. He locks the office. -FEAR-

The feeling is so immediate it makes him stumble, although he hasn't got a body to stumble with. It is so strong he feels his own anxiety building. He has to concentrate.

...The man is unbuttoning his shirt. We can't believe this is really happening. He jumps at us, trapping us. We fight; we scratch and claw but it is no use - we are weak, he is strong. He moves us towards his desk. Stop him! Stop him! We try to kick. We struggle. -Desperation-

He pins us down. He is heavy. We cannot lift him. He is touching us now. He must not touch us like this! He says again that we are beautiful. We wish we were not. He would not touch us if we were ugly. We demand he releases us. He says we will enjoy it. -ANGER-

We struggle. We fight. We bite. We injure him, but we injure ourselves, too. It is not enough to make him stop. We are feeling dizzy, weak. He opens his pants. -FEAR-

Although he was prepared this time for the emotion, he was still reeling from its intensity. He doesn't want to look on; doesn't want to see what happens next, but he has to, he can't look away.

...He pushes against us, enters us. We beg him to stop. He wants us to relax. We can't, we are afraid. We are in pain. We are crying. He is no longer slow, he is fast and brutal. -AGONY-unlike anything we have ever felt. It is in our mind. In our heart. In our soul. We scream. It is not enough to dull the agony.

He feels the pain; it's blinding. He wants to run away, wants it to stop. He mustn't run, must be strong. Be calm. He is feeling sick.

...Our fingers are digging into the cold, unfeeling surface we are lying on. The man moves and moves, pushes and pulls; it is tearing us. We are bleeding. We pray that it will stop. We pray someone will help us. -Desperation-

He would cry himself, if he could. He wishes he had been there, had been able to prevent this. He feels so much compassion he thinks his mind must implode under the onslaught of emotion. Many are not his own. Some are.

...He spills himself inside us, tainting us. Shaming us. He kisses us; mocking us. He pulls out. Is surprised how much he injured us. He injured our soul so much more. --Emptiness-

Spock/Leonard looks on as the memory continues, showing the lift, the night guard, the dorm room. He feels numb himself. He hadn't thought it would be like this - that it would affect him so much. He reads the data on the tricorder - he winces; it is so bad. He sees the memory again - it's repeating itself. He cannot bear to watch it again. He needs to leave. He turns and runs, trying not to listen to the quiet, broken sobs that fade in the darkness. He hasn't come far when another memory assaults him.

...We carefully look around the entrance hall of university before we step in. He is not here. We are safe. We feel -shame- at hiding; shame to be forced to lurk in shadows like a criminal. We don't show it on our face, though - we are too used to feeling shamed.

...He looks at us. This time, we were not careful enough. He smirks; he takes pleasure in knowing how he has scarred us, how he still haunts us. Our hands tremble. He knows he cannot hurt us again; we trained and trained to built up muscle, to grow strong. We are not strong yet. One day, we vow to ourselves, we'll be.

Spock/Leonard clutches his head in his hands. It is too much - too many memories, too fast. One blurs into another; a kaleidoscope of painful recollections. He needs to find his way through them; he's seen what he came here for, it's time to leave, to not cause any more suffering. But before he can gather himself enough to concentrate, another flood of memories buries him like a wave.

...She is mad at us. She is mad very often. She has every right to be, we believe. We have given her nothing, really - a house, a fine income, yes, but no time as a couple, we are always working. No real trust - we never told her what changed us so. She believes us to be indifferent - to care nothing for her or our child. She is very wrong; we care for both of them a lot but we show our love only to our little daughter. With Jo, we feel safe to love. We feel -regret-, so much regret. It is our fault our marriage is failing, ours alone. We cannot be intimate with her, not really. The few times we tried, it was hurried and dispassionate. She didn't like it. We can't blame her. We blame us.

...She took our baby girl, the only good thing we have. We care nothing for the house or our work, fuck that. But she said there was something dark in us, something twisted. She has no idea.

She doesn't want us around Jo-Jo, says she will limit the contact. She can do it; she got full custody at court because his lawyer was an incompetent idiot. It's breaking our heart when we say goodbye to our baby girl. She is crying so hard. We hold her, promise her we will always be there for her, although we know it's a lie. We -hate- ourselves so much in this moment.

Weeks later, we enter a shuttle to sign into Starfleet Academy. There is nothing left for us on Earth.

...He says we are hiding behind our Captain. Says we are too afraid to fight our own battles. Says that's why we are with Jim - because we need to be dominated; want to be dominated. We don't believe him! Jim is good for us; Jim feels right where everybody else felt wrong. Still...there is a part of us that WANTS to be taken care of; that wants to surrender control and let Jim take charge. But...if we'd let it happen, would it prove him right?

"Stop," Spocks'/Leonards' voice whispers, "Stop now. It is enough, let...let go!"

Pulling/shoving with all his might, he manages to sever the connection...

...and finds himself on the floor next to the couch, inside his own mind again. Spock breathed hard; it had been difficult to leave the doctor's thoughts; the many memories and emotions still had him reeling. Looking up, he saw his captain who tried to calm a shaking McCoy.

"Bones, please, calm down," Jim pleaded with his love, "it's alright, it's over! Spock, help me!" he bit out, struggling to hold onto Leonard who seemed to have a panic attack. Calmly, the Vulcan reached over and pinched the nerves on McCoy's neck junction. Immediately, the doctor fell limp, unconscious. Kirk glared at him.

"Damn, Spock, I wanted you to calm him, not knock him out!"

"It was the easiest way to achieve the former, Captain. Besides, the meld was quite troubling for both of us. His mind needs the rest."

Jim shook his head, sighing. "He will be so pissed when he wakes up..." After a moment of silence and contemplative gazing at his lover, he asked: "So, what happened?"

"...I had access to some of the Doctor's happiest memories." He didn't elaborate which ones, and Kirk didn't ask. "And I was able to... extract the information we were looking for."

Kirk nodded grimly. "Anything new?"

Spock considered. "It might be rewarding to seek out a human male named 'John'. He was a night guard at the Doctor's university and was on duty on the night in question."

"Right," Kirk nodded again, determined. "I'll find him!"

A soft moan made both men look down at the unconscious McCoy between them. Gently, Jim placed a hand on his love's brow, smoothing out the creases. For a while they said nothing, the Blonde deep in thought and Spock slightly battling with himself - or rather, having a dispute with himself.

"Jim," he finally spoke, reluctantly. "There was one memory that I found rather...disconcerting."

Kirk laughed mirthlessly. "Really, Spock?"

"You misunderstand me. I mean there was one memory that was very recent that makes me worry about the Doctor's...peace of soul."

Jim raised his eyebrows. "What was it?"

"The Professor seems to have told Dr McCoy that he was hiding behind you. He implied that..."

"He implied what?" Jim asked, sharply.

"-he implied that the Doctor's motivation for his relationship with you was his need to be dominated."

"...!" Jim was speechless for a second, then he clenched his teeth violently. "That foul, lying bastard!"

Kirk was visibly shaking with rage. He looked up into Spock's dark brown eyes with his own flaming blue ones. "I swear I will make him pay! I will make him pay for what he did to Bones and make him regret ever coming here to hurt him again!"

Spock nodded slowly, regarding the only two men in the universe he considered his friends.

"We will, Jim."


Leonard woke up before sunrise, feeling quite refreshed after a night of dreamless sleep. Looking around, he spotted his lover on his left side, on the bed beside him, fast asleep. He smiled and lifted his hand to lightly trace the line of Jim's strong jaw. Raising himself slightly, he bent and placed his lips on the Blonde's forehead, chuckling as the younger man mumbled something unintelligible and curled into him. They lay like that for another hour; Leonard feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks. But then his bladder insisted that he'd move. Careful as not to disturb his sleeping lover, he disentangled himself and sneaked into the bathroom. After relieving himself and brushing his teeth, he took a quick sonic shower and quietly walked out again. Fishing his favorite shirt and a pair of soft cotton pants from his drawer but unwilling to turn on the light lest he'd disturb Jim, he hurried to the living room naked.

"Lights to thirty percent," he ordered and made his way over to the replicator in his kitchen. "Coffee, black, one piece of sugar."

With his drink in hand he walked back to where he'd discarded his clothing on the floor, bending to pick it up.

"Good morning, Doctor," a voice behind him said quite calmly. Leonard swore he had a minor heart attack.

"Spock," he spluttered, "what the ruddy hell're you doin' here?"

The Vulcan sat up from his place on the couch where he'd been lying. "Meditating, Doctor."

"Medi- Spock, you damned hobgoblin, how long have you been sitting there watchin' me?"

Spock cocked his head. "Since you came through the door, but please be assured I was not watching you - though I am now and would be very happy if you were so kind as to put on your clothes."

"I-what?"

Dumbfounded, Leonard looked down and realized he was still stark naked, clutching his clothing in his hand. Cursing colorfully, he jumped into his pants and shirt. Spock nodded appreciatively.

"Thank you, Doctor. I must say, you never fail to fascinate me with the... creative variety of swearwords you possess."

Leonard grumbled to himself, not deigning the comment worth an answer. Gesturing with his mystically not-spilled coffee, he asked the other man: "Want some?"

"No, thank you. I would prefer a cup of herbal tea, if you don't mind."

"Sure." McCoy went over to the replicator again and got the beverage in question. Walking over to the couch, he offered the cup to the Vulcan, who took it...and was left standing next to his own couch like he was some kind of intruder, slightly apprehensive to sit down with Spock on it. Awkwardly, he drummed his fingers against his thigh. This was the first time he was alone with Spock since...forever. Usually Jim was with them; making sure they behaved half-civilized.

Finally, he sat down on the armchair next to the couch.

For several minutes, the only sound to be heard was the quiet sipping of liquids; but while the Vulcan seemed perfectly content with the silence between them, it was driving Leonard nuts. His mind kept replaying the scenes they had shared in his mind, Spock and him. The first officer had seen much, much more than Leonard had intended for him to see. And then, there'd been that strange sensation of having someone else in his head, sharing his feelings and thoughts but also adding their own. At some moments, he'd not known whose thoughts and feelings it'd been.

"I understand you perfectly, Doctor," said a quiet voice next to him. Startled, McCoy looked up, wondering if the other man had read his mind again, but realizing that he'd started to speak out loud at some point. Spock was staring into his eyes very intently.

"I am sorry I was not able to leave your mind sooner. The...onslaught of memories made it difficult to gather the necessary focus to sever the connection."

Leonard shrugged. "It's alright, don't worry abou' it, Spock," he replied, knowing he was probably fooling no one. The black-haired man, unsurprisingly, disregarded the answer; leaning in, Spock continued speak.

"It is important for us to discuss what happened, Doctor. It can lead to mental instability, in worst cases paranoia or schizophrenia, if we disregard your emotions. You shared your mind with me; even if it was only for a short time, and experienced a form of...invasion, of penetration."

Leonard blushed slightly, about to object, but realized that Spock had been there, had seen and felt what he'd felt. He remembered it now; the sensation of another's presence in his head, terrifying and fulfilling at the same time. Spock's presence had been kind and unobtrusive, but nonetheless solid and oddly comforting. And suddenly, he understood something.

"It's an act of love, isn't it?" He met the other man's eyes again, golden hazel to deepest chocolate brown. "For Vulcans. It's some sort of...token of love."

Spock seemed to hesitate for a second, but nodded finally. "You are quite right, Doctor. The meld is usually shared between lovers; we do not like to enter another person's mind to gain information. It is a-"

"-bond," McCoy whispered, finally beginning to understand what an incredible act of friendship it'd been from Spock to initiate something so precious and intimate.

"...Yes," the Vulcan admitted very quietly. "We meld our minds with the person we hold most dear to...bond ourselves permanently to each other. It is, in human words, a marriage."

Leonard looked down, slightly guilty. "I am sorry you had to do this, Spock. If I'd just been clever enough to-"

"Please stop, Leonard." The use of his first name made him look up again.

"While we were one person, I noted your irrational tendency to blame yourself. What I did, I intended to do. I am glad to be able to- to help a friend."

Both men looked away at the same time, embarrassed; neither really happy to talk about feelings. McCoy's head reeled with all the information, plus he was still feeling a bit displaced from all that happened yesterday. And the truth of the mind meld being a bond of lovers...

'It should seriously freak me out that the hobgoblin performed some sort of marriage ritual on us - but even with Spock, it was... calming. Enticing. I wonder how it'd be with Jim.'

Suddenly he felt a sharp sense of loss. He'd probably never be able to experience this form of closeness with his lover. Before McCoy could dwell on it any longer, though, the door to the bedroom opened and a very tousled looking Jim entered the living room.

"Hey, guys," he greeted them sleepily, scratching the back of his blond head. "Up for some breakfast?"


Later that day, the trio made their way to Star Fleet's legal bureau, to seek out an advisor. All of them were wearing their grey formal uniforms with rank insignia. McCoy was visibly nervous; jumping whenever one of the other two said anything to him, but he'd made up his mind: he'd see this through, even if it'd cost him the loyalty of the crew and the respect of his superiors.

When they entered the wing that housed the legal department, they took a moment to get their bearings – neither of them had been here before. Compared to the other buildings on the grounds, this was unobtrusive, plain; almost boring. The 'Fleet took great care to impress visitors with their advanced architecture and spectacular views, but this wing was only spectacularly unremarkable. So they wasted no time in crossing the entrance hall, stepping into a lift and proceeding to the third floor, where the offices of the legal advisors were located. A young man at a desk looked up when the lift's doors slid open, looking them over taxingly.

"How may I help you, Gentlemen?"

Smoothly falling into his role as a commanding officer, Kirk stepped forward, about to take on the obstacle. Leonard wondered briefly if Jim knew how naturally it looked to everybody else; the formidable James T. Kirk rising to a challenge, never backing down from anything. The only ones that ever saw behind that act were the very two men beside him.

"I am James T. Kirk. I am here for a legal consultation."

The young man raised an eyebrow at McCoy and Spock. "And your companions are…?"

"…also members of Star Fleet." Kirk's eyes were steel. There was no reason this secretary had to know that Leonard McCoy was seeking out a legal advisor. When it would come down to court, news would spread fast enough.

The man got the idea that Kirk was no one he wanted to mess with. He'd heard the name before – but surely, this blonde, slender man before him couldn't be that Kirk..? The guy was hardly older then he himself!

"Very well. So, what kind of consultation are you here for? Fiscal law? Martial law?"

"Penal law," Jim answered simply. The secretary's eyebrow rose again, but he nodded.

"Then you want to see Dr Rosenberg, our prosecutor. Second door on the left."

"Thank you." Without any further delay, Jim let them to the appointed door a few steps down the hallway. When he reached the door that said 'Cora Rosenberg, J.S.D.', he knocked. A female voice called: "Come in!"

Kirk opened the door and saw a woman in her early thirties at a huge desk that was littered with PADDs. Behind him, Spock and McCoy stepped into the average-sized room and closed the door. The walls of the office were hidden under shelves upon shelves; many of them filled with real paper books. Jim nodded towards one of them.

"I didn't know people still read those."

The woman – blonde with grey-green eyes – smiled good-naturedly. "Yes, well, I inherited many of them from my granddad and I simply can't part with them. I just love the feel of actual paper between my fingers."

She gestured towards two chairs in front of the desk that were also heavily littered with stuff, hurriedly gathering her things and offering the seats to the three men. She looked apologetically at Spock, who remained standing, arms behind his back.

"I will collect another one from one of my colleagues-"

"Please, make no effort, Madam," the Vulcan refused politely. "I am perfectly content to stand. I prefer it to sitting down, actually."

"All right, then," Dr Rosenberg said, returning to her chair. "What can I do for you?"

Jim briefly looked over at Leonard before answering. "My name is James T. Kirk. I am captain of the-"

"-USS Enterprise," she nodded, lips quirking up. "I don't think there's a woman left on the planet who doesn't know you, Captain. The same goes for your First Officer, of course." She flashed her eyes over to the passive Vulcan. Then she looked at Leonard.

"I am very sorry that you don't look familiar, Lieutenant."

Her apology sounded so sincere that Leonard smiled in spite of himself. "Tha's alright, Ma'am. I prefer to work behind the scenes. More o' the important stuff to do than strolling 'round in the spotlight."

Dr Rosenberg laughed when Kirk stared at the other man mock-outraged. "I understand you perfectly well."

McCoy grinned and extended his hand. "Leonard McCoy."

The woman's hand stilled in his. "Leonard McCoy, the author of Comparative Alien Physiology? The inventor of a new surgical procedure for grafting neural tissue to the cerebral cortex which is now standard?"

Leonard stared at her, slightly stunned. "You know my publications?"

"Well… I've looked into some of them but didn't get all of it – way too complex for me – but I've got a friend in Medical and she explained some of it." Letting go of his hand, she grew serious. "Now tell me what I can do for you."

Kirk cleared his throat. "We need advice concerning an assault on one of our crew members."

"…Alright," Dr Rosenberg answered after a moment of waiting for him to add more. "Who is that crew member?"

"It's me," McCoy replied before Jim could. Looking at his lover, he waited for his confirming nod that he'd let Bones speak now. Unobtrusively, the captain took his love's hand under the desk and squeezed it briefly.

If Dr Rosenberg had noticed the exchange, she didn't show it, waiting patiently for Leonard to continue. He closed his eyes and just said it.

"I was sexually assaulted by my professor at university eight years ago."

The slight widening of her eyes was the only indication that the admission shocked her. A few seconds passed in silence.

"I see… Dr McCoy, before I ask you anything more I need your confirmation that you're here out of your own volition." Her eyes flickered quickly to the other two men.

Leonard nodded, smiling weakly. "It's alright. They're here because I asked them to be. They…they already know everything."

Her tense posture softened. "I didn't expect anything else. But I hope you understand I had to ask." Briefly raising her voice, she commanded: "Computer, acoustic insulation!"

After the affirmative beep, she continued. "So… please tell me about the assault, Doctor. I don't need a detailed description yet," she added quickly, "just give me the circumstances."

Nodding, Leonard focused on a spot slightly above her right shoulder and started to speak: "I was twenty-two, student of medicine in my second year at the University of Mississippi. He was my professor for microbiology. After an… incident of violation of school rules, I was assigned to be his assistant for a period of three months. It was during that time that it…happened."

Dr Rosenberg nodded, silently asking him to continue. McCoy swallowed thickly, uncomfortable with speaking about something like this with a stranger, though this advisor seemed kind enough. But if he was to be interviewed in court, as he was sure to be, he'd better get used to it. But he seriously doubted he ever would.

"One late evening, I was summoned to his office, and…"

"…and he assaulted you." Dr Rosenberg finished quietly. Leonard nodded.

"Did he rape you?"

Leonard nodded again. The woman sighed softly. "Please go on."

"Afterwards…he accompanied me out of the building and left. I went back to my dorm and took a shower."

"Dr McCoy was so foresighted to perform a tricorder scan on himself," Spock added. McCoy nodded, thankful. The prosecutor leaned forward slightly, brows furrowing. "And you still possess that data?"

"Yes. But I... I didn't take a probe of the seminal liquid," Leonard added, still mad at himself.

"I see. So we'd be able to prove you've been assaulted but not that it was that former professor of yours," Dr Rosenberg nodded. Leonard shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Jim, who also looked worried.

"So... You don't think we've go' a chance?"

The blonde woman shook her head. "I didn't say that. There might still be a chance. Dr McCoy, did anybody see you immediately before or in the days after the attack? Someone who saw your injuries?"

"No... I didn't talk to anyone about it." McCoy sighed. A clearing of throat behind him made everybody look at the Vulcan who'd remained mostly silent until now.

"If I remember correctly, Dr McCoy has indeed been seen by someone - the night guard of the biological facility of his university."

Dr Rosenberg sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. "Now that's some good news. Who is that man?"

"His name is John Barrows," Leonard answered slowly. "But... he was quite old already eight years ago, close to retirement... I don' believe he'd even remember me, let alone how I looked that night!"

"You don't know that, Bones!" Jim interrupted, excited. "Maybe he does!"

"Even if he'd remember seein' me, there's no way he could confirm that I was injured, Jim! We only passed him on our way out."

Kirk opened his mouth to object, but the woman held up her hand. "Gentlemen, please. Let's first find Mr Barrows, than talk about what he saw - but I must remind you, Doctor, that even if he cannot prove you've been assaulted, he can at least confirm that you've been with your professor on the night in question."

Kirk and McCoy both stared at her, dumbfounded. Spock nodded affirmatively. "I take it then, Doctor, that you'll take on Doctor McCoy's case?" he asked.

Dr Rosenberg studied the three men in front of her for a long moment. Finally, she asked: "Dr McCoy, you realize this is going to be dirty? Cases of rape are never pretty, and in your own field you're very well known."

"I know," Leonard responded quietly. "I will see this through."

The blonde woman nodded. "Then I will take on your case. Before our next meeting, I need you to send me the data from your tricorder scan. I will try to find this Mr Barrows. Please make an appointment with my assistant."

She rose and offered her hand towards each man in turn. When she took Leonards hand, she held it for a moment longer, looking him in the eyes.

"I cannot promise you that we'll win in court, Dr McCoy - but I'll do my damn best to make that asshole stand up for what he did."

^^y^^

So now Bones has a new fighter who will help him win his case, yay! :) With a clever prosecutor, a brave boyfriend and a stoic Vulcan, what could go wrong? ...Well. Keep reading and see for yourself. I haven't so much as scetched the new chapter yet, so I don't know what the title will be. So I'll just ask you to review and stay with me for chapter 8!

Love, Coco