McCoy crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the sedated Jim and Spock.

He'd beamed the two of them, and the body of Laal, up to the Enterprise after he'd hypo'd them. He was angrier than usual. And it wasn't just because he couldn't figure out what had happened to Laal. That was just the icing on the seven-layer shit forest cake.

It wasn't fair. Kirk and Spock always got to have their little to do's and left McCoy to figure out his problems on his own. He hated to think it, but he felt like a third wheel…

so much depends

upon

a red wheel

barrow

glazed with rain

water

beside the white

chickens.

The old Earth poem soothed him a little bit. But as soon as he thought of red, he thought of Laal. And Uhura. Somehow the closest he'd come to death and the closest he'd come to being alive in the last twenty -our hours were both associated with that color.

"Leonard. What happened?!"

Speak of the devil and the devil appears, McCoy thought, staring at the concerned Uhura. She went to Spock's gurney first, using her fingers to fix his unkempt hair back into perfect bangs. She checked on Kirk too. She noticed his bandage, pulling down his black shirt to look at it. She then looked at McCoy, for an explanation, he supposed.

"Spock bit him. Kirk went all Noonien on us and Spock stepped in, but then he went a little weird himself."

Uhura looked at him with a bewildered expression. "But he isn't due for another two years, is he?"

McCoy suddenly felt like an idiot. He had no idea what Uhura was talking about and yet she thought, for some reason, that he would know. Which meant he should know, and Mr. Pointy was keeping secrets from him. He swallowed his pride and asked the question.

"Due for what?" And before she could answer. "He hasn't told me anything special about his Vulcan highness. Why? What should he have told me?"

"It doesn't matter. It's not what I think it is, anyway. Ask him sometime. I shouldn't be the one to tell you." She turned away from the unconscious pair. He felt strange with all of her fire directed towards him.

"What was it like, seeing her again?" She asked. How could she-

"You always got a gold star in Sunday School, didn't you?"

"Everyone on this ship is the best at what they do. I feel the same way. I want to know what's going on at every moment. I do my homework. I'm sorry if that question was too personal, it's just-"

Uhura sighed, leaning on Spock's gurney. She ran her thumb along his ear and across his jaw. "You want to know how things are going to be, once someone's there, but gone too."

McCoy scowled at that. He had a theory, considering the way Spock was wandering through the halls the night before.

"You and Spock? You're not- uh,"

"Nevermind, I'm sorry I asked." Uhura hurried out of the room.

McCoy followed her into the hallway.

"Uhura!"

"Have a good night, Doctor!" She called. She used Doctor, not Leonard. He took that to mean their conversation was over.

Son of a bitch. He thought this and wasn't sure if he meant himself or Spock. When he returned to sickbay, though, Spock was awake, sitting on his elbows and blinking.

"We gotta have a reckoning, you and I," McCoy said in the most intimidating and southern voice he could muster. Spock raised an eyebrow at him. Point Spock.

"I thought you were supposed to be the logical one."

Spock looked confused for a moment. Then he regained his blank exterior. But he'd betrayed a little, and that started something in McCoy. Suddenly, McCoy just wanted to do anything he could to tease out the human side of Spock. Now he knew it was there.

"I apologize Doctor. It will not happen again."

"It shouldn'a happened in the first place. What came over you?"

"Perhaps I was-" Spock stopped speaking and stared at him a moment before continuing.

"What caused Lieutenant Laal's expiration?"

McCoy punched his hand into the table. "It's the damndest thing. I can't find anything wrong with him! Apart from being dead. He's completely healthy.

"I did find the remains of a plant in his mouth that could be toxic, and could cause the epidermal reaction on his face. But the toxin from the plant wasn't in his bloodstream. That wasn't what killed him."

"Then there are limited explanations for his death. It was accidental, it was self-inflicted, or it was planned by either the Professor or his wife. The evidence points towards the third possibility."

"Very logical Spock. I'd say the same, but I'm happy to disagree. What's the motive? Why kill Laal? Why not kill Kirk? He has the most power. His death would make the biggest statement. Or why not me? Crater has enough reason to hate me."

"I am surprised to find your conclusions are logical as well, Doctor. We must find a connection-"

"No. First- I get to pick a fight with you. You promised me you'd protect the crew and anyone else from Kirk's outbursts! Not to mention, this is my thing!"

McCoy immediately regretted saying it.

"'Your thing'? To what are you referring, Doctor?"

"Nancy's my ex-wife, Spock. I was in love with her once.

"We didn't work….

"It was a bad split. She took everything we had. I joined Starfleet to get away from her. From our whole life. She threw everything away. Everything she got from me. Everything I spent my life building. To her it was worthless as a lightning bug in the daytime. And then she gave it away to be with him. And who is he? Some wrinkly old archaeologist? What's so exciting about that down there?"

He gestured through his sickbay window, at the planet they were orbiting. But he couldn't look at Spock while he said any of it.

"You both- you're my friends. The closest people I have. You're supposed to protect me and listen to me. Instead all you do is fight with each other an' make a bigger mess for me to clean up. You broke your promise."

"Doctor…" Spock was standing right behind him now. McCoy turned to look at him. He looked as professional as always, hands clasped behind his back, straight face, neutral expression.

"Don't you do that. That's not the only reason I'm mad at you. Uhura was just in here asking me when you're due. What's that about? And why don't I know, if I'm the Doctor?"

"Vulcan's historical records were released after the destruction of the planet, Doctor McCoy, I thought you would have been privy to the relevant information."

"Dammit Spock, I'm a Doctor, not a mind reader! Tell me if there's something I need to know!"

"You are correct, Doctor. Every seven years I will have a possibly fatal urge to mate. On Vulcan, it is referred to as Pon Farr. However, I will not be experiencing Pon Farr for another two years. This incident was- an anomaly."

McCoy absorbed this information. "You're telling me you don't know what came over you?"

"A curious way to phrase it, but yes, that is correct, Doctor."

McCoy suddenly felt like laughing. There it was again. His humanity.

Kirk stirred and groaned. McCoy and Spock looked at each other. "You can tell him what happened, " McCoy said. "I'll give you two some alone time." He almost left, but turned on his heel.

"I'm sorry to hear about you and Uhura." He didn't know why, but he really wanted to confirm that they had split.

"Thank you Doctor. I am confident that the Lieutenant will find someone more suited to her needs than- me."

"And you'll find someone for you too."

McCoy really left this time, thinking, that's weird. Where did that response come from? It was warm, optimistic even. He only said that kinda nonsense when he was drunk, or happy. He wasn't drunk. So was he happy? He couldn't tell.

Instead, he decided to busy himself. No need to analyze. He'd beam to the surface, finish Crater's physical, maybe catch up with Nance, and take a look at that sinister flora.


Spock turned back to the Captain once the Doctor had left. He strode to close the 7.5 foot gap between them. He stared at the bandage, just barely exposed, on the muscle between the Captain's shoulder and neck.

Why had he bitten him? It was- illogical, whether it was for revenge (emotional) or for combat purposes (he knew better ways to incapacitate). But he remembered the taste of Kirk's blood. He used his tongue to feel the pointed canines in his mouth- proof that Vulcans had not always been vegetarian. He still had the equipment to tear apart flesh. Or perhaps he received his teeth from his mother's side. He could no longer perform a satisfactory study on Vulcan teeth.

The Captain was looking at him as he looked at the bandage. Spock couldn't ignore the shade of blue that flashed at him as soon as his Captain's eyes opened.

Spock's teeth now clenched together.

"It's okay, Spock. I deserved it."

"I disagree, Captain…. may I-"

Why was this his query? It was not an appropriate request. He could predict how the wound would appear. But the Captain already knew what he was asking and pulled his shirt off to give Spock direct access to the bandage.

Spock examined more than just the bandaged area, for a moment, seeing the red line across the Captain's chest. (Also his fault, Spock reminded himself.)

He then focused. He pulled the adhesive away from the Captain's skin and exposed the redness underneath. There were a few small puncture wounds in the muscle, but more importantly, Spock could see the imprints of his own teeth in his Captain.

He did not want them to fade. He wanted them to stay there. Forever. Why?

Without a thought- Spock reached out and ran a finger across the imprints in his Captain's skin. He felt a small shudder underneath the contact and realized what he was doing. But he could not bring himself to remove his finger from Jim's body. In fact, he wanted to grab him with both hands. But he did not. He just let his finger rest there, on the edge of the wound.

The Captain responded in kind, placing a singular finger on the side of Spock's neck.

"He had to knock you out too?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Why?"

"I lost control."

"I thought I was supposed to be the one doing that."

"My thoughts reflect yours. However, my body did not respond as my mind had anticipated."

Jim moved his hand. He placed his fingers on Spock's face, on his meld points. Spock drew in a breath, questioning if the meld would function. It did not. But the gesture itself was charged.

"You- other you- did this to me once. I think it's still fucking with me."

The Captain dropped his fingers. Spock did not. As the Captain spoke, in fact, he added a finger, bringing them to the front of his neck, where Spock comforted himself by counting the beats in Jim's pulse and feeling the vibration of his vocal chords.

"I keep thinking that you're him. But you're not. You're you. And sometimes I think I'm the Kirk that belongs to the other you. But I'm not. I don't even belong to myself. I couldn't even deal with Laal…. I don't feel like much of a Captain right now."

"You are, and always shall be, my Captain," Spock replied. The statement flew with the ease of thought more than speech.

"Thanks, Spock."

Spock felt Jim's awareness of his fingers on his neck. A muscle twitched under them. And then Jim's fingers came up to meet his. He slowly, gently, placed his fingers over Spock's. He stared at Spock while he did so. Spock transferred his gaze from their fingers to Jim's eyes.

"I am not the one to thank, Captain. It was Doctor McCoy who saved both of our lives today. Additionally, his experiences are far more challenging than ours at this particular moment. I suggest we suspend our discussion until we have found the cause of Lieutenant Laal's death and have left this system, with the Doctor's satisfaction intact."

The Captain half-smiled. "What're you telling me? You like Bones? You think it's more important right now that we make sure he's okay?"

Spock fought the head tilt that the Captain so (unconsciously) enjoyed imitating. "I merely believe that the Doctor's wishes and emotional well-being align with our current mission, Captain."

"Ok. As long as you have an excuse, Spock. We better put on some pants, huh?"

Spock looked down at himself. He was, in fact, wearing only his regulation black shirt and regulation black underwear. He removed his fingers from the Captain's neck and retrieved his uniform from the end of his gurney. He felt blood filling the capillaries of his cheeks, nose, and ears.

The primary question now presented itself: did Spock lose control when fighting Jim because of the sudden illusion of his mother, or did he lose control because of his relationship with Jim himself? Spock could not locate a definitive answer at the moment, and decided instead to focus on Doctor McCoy's needs.


The poem Bones uses to calm himself is by the awesome William Carlos Williams. Also, for an easter egg from the last chapter, look at the meanings of the postures of ancient Egyptian statues. ;) Love y'all!

~Evyfleur