Spock waited for Kirk to wake up after, well, meddling with his mind. He had not made the captain actually forget anything; memory didn't work like that. Spock had rather hidden the memories of Rayna so that Kirk wouldn't be able to immediately access them. By the time he remembered, it would no longer feel fresh and painful.

While he waited, Spock reflected on what Bones had said to him. What a perspective – that the only thing worth sacrificing anything for was love. The implication that he was incapable of it or had rejected it caused a rare flash of anger to strike him.

Spock reminded himself that he was not lacking because he didn't ascribe to a subjective perspective of emotional value. But it still hurt to hear the doctor's words.

The captain began to stir. "Oh sorry, Spock, I seemed to have dozed off."

It was time to test the captain's memory. "Our excursion to the planet to obtain the antidote must have exhausted you."

Kirk squinted oddly, as if trying to remember something that was just out of reach. "Yes, that must have been it." He was quiet for another moment. "Spock, you were playing piano on the planet, weren't you? Where did you learn how to play?"

"My mother taught me," Spock said. "I didn't have very much patience for it at first, but I have grown to enjoy the instrument."

"You, impatient?" Kirk smiled, and Spock almost smiled himself. "Now that I would have to see."

"Most young Vulcans are, as children," Spock said. "It is an emotion that we learn to contain." He stood up. "I should get back to my duties, Captain."

"Alright. Thanks, Spock."