Welcome back, I hope you liked it so far. Some Vulcan needs to meditate, some Human is just along for the ride.
Christine pulled off her sweater in one languid motion as soon as the door to her quarters had shut behind them. Tossing it in the direction of an armchair, she turned towards the bed.
"What are you doing?", Spock asked as she sent the garment flying through the room.
"Changing into your robe. We're going to meditate, aren't we?"
"That was the consensus, yes. Only, I usually meditate less…emphatically."
"Well, that's Humans for you, Spock."
She smiled, as she would have smiled at him if he had been here physically, but she had to contend with her own face in the mirror for now, which was a decidedly pointless alternative.
"Shall we go to your quarters for meditation, if the surroundings there are more convenient?"
She had only now noticed her cabin's definite lack of incense and candles in comparison to Spock's. But he remarked that it was quite sufficient for the time being.
She gathered up Spock's robe, thrusting her arms into the sleeves and pulling the garment over her head. It was, of course, much wider than she would have needed, but otherwise, she was surprised how well it fit.
"That could have been the reason Dr McCoy brought this particular robe. Apart from that, I do not know why he chose this one."
"Why shouldn't he, isn't this your usual meditation robe?"
"I do use it, yes, but I have other ones, and this is the one I was buried in."
"Oh."
She stopped tugging the robe into place and kept still for a moment, holding the fabric of the sleeves between her fingertips. The association of this same robe being contaminated by Spock's irradiated corpse had almost triggered the instinct of getting it as far away from her as fast as possible. But if this was Spock's burial robe, it was also the robe his body had been regenerated in on the planet Genesis, leaving no trace of radiation. It was just a robe, after all. But still, she shuddered at the thought of the soft garment moving against her skin once having touched the dead.
Christine shook herself out of her reverie: "I'm sorry, Spock, I'm sure the association is much more uncomfortable for you."
"On the contrary. Dying was…uncomfortable, but I do not associate it with this robe as it had no part in it that I would be able to recollect. My only association of this robe regarding those events is regaining life in it."
"Ah. Well, maybe Leonard has the same association."
"Possibly. Do you want to resume our original plan now?"
"Gladly. Just…do what you usually do, Spock.", she said as she handed control over to him.
Spock dimmed the lights and sat down on her bed, steepling her hands in front of them and closing her eyes. Then, not feeling quite comfortable, he opened them again and decided to lie down instead. He bent down to take off Christine's boots, and after he had done that, he took them in one hand, neatly depositing them under the table. Then, he walked over to the armchair in her seating alcove where the sweater had landed, picked it up, folded it neatly, and hung it over the armrest. Order thusly restored, he turned back to the bed.
"Sometimes you seem ever so slightly neurotic, Spock.", Christine whispered fondly in her head.
"Order is a central habit of a successful Starfleet officer. Besides, you told me to do what I usually do."
He lay down on her bed and placed her steepled hands on her torso. Closing her eyes for the second time, he sighed and turned his attention inward at last.
It was Christine's turn to hover as she observed his meditating mind. There were no words, and no concrete images passed between them, but she felt him organising his thoughts, felt the calm that startled to settle around him, and she relished in it. She felt her body breathe calmly as even this Human shell was influenced by the Vulcan mind exerting its power within.
There, the effects were instantaneous. What had felt like waves crashing at her and around her a short while ago ebbed down into the constant flow she had experienced yesterday as she found herself being pulled along safely. She could have easily stepped back but felt drawn towards the radiating serenity like a moth to the light. And so, she didn't stray far from the edges of its source, basking in the warmth she found spreading through her mind now.
She had no sensation of time when she came out of their meditation to the sight of her cabin, the lights still dimmed.
"Are you already done meditating?"
"I have been for the last 15 minutes, and I meditated for 23. You fell asleep after eight."
"Really?"
"Yes. You seemed to feel very content."
She knew Spock would have smirked if he had had a body, just to insist that Vulcans did not smirk.
"Well, I was! You also seem to feel better now."
"I do. At this point, I cannot fathom why I neglected my routine."
"Well, no need to cry over spilt milk. As long as it worked now…"
"I have never cried over the spilling of any beverage."
"Now you're just being purposefully obtuse! You know what I mean."
But she took his good-humoured reply as a positive sign. If Spock had time for his kind of jokes, he was feeling better again.
"I do not…"
"Yes, yes, I know. You do not joke. You're a very serious person, humour is beneath you, Vulcan's do not banter and don't have emotions, my ass!"
She must have stunned him into silence because there was a pause before his answer that would have been usually filled by him raising his eyebrows critically.
"I do not think that that is a fitting way to address your superior."
"We're both off duty, and we do not work in the same department most of the time." Christine paused for a moment, relishing in Spock's mock disapproval. "Besides, Spock, you're in my head. I can't really sugar-coat things, can I?"
"No, indeed you can't.", Spock said solemnly. "We both can't."
But he had to admit, even after today's fiasco, that it did not bother him as much as it could have and not as much as it would have, were certain other people involved.
Despite some few unpleasant experiences he had shared with her, where her feelings for him had been a contributing factor, he did not hold them against her. Contrarywise, he had to acknowledge that her composure and professionalism had always been exemplary, and had continued to be so, without forfeiting her characteristic tenderness.
Christine noticed the praise in Spock's musings but chose not to comment on it as it had not been directed at her, heedful of the last bit of privacy they could grant each other. Spock would be feeling her quiet acknowledgement anyway right now.
He swung her legs out of bed and sat up as the sound of the door chime rang through the room.
"Come!", he called simultaneously. They both knew who their visitor was.
Jim entered slowly and picking up on their position on the bed, he asked: "Feeling better? I heard what happened."
"Yes, thank you. Are there news regarding Mr Scott's repairs?"
"He's still on it, no news so far. But I didn't come because of that. I told you I'd look in. Bones told me you that you weren't feeling well and why." He leant against the support beam and sighed. "I wish I'd noticed something."
"Neither did Doctor McCoy and neither did we. It's of no consequence."
"I can't imagine how you're feeling. How the two of you are feeling.", Jim added, tapping his head.
"Well, it's hard to describe, too. I think that both Spock and I will be glad to have a head to ourselves each, but for now…" Christine shrugged her shoulders. "Well, from a medical perspective, I can't even try to explain what's going on. We're dabbling in matters that aren't fully explored anyway. Add to that the complication of two minds where there should be one and there's no telling what's gonna happen and what mental and neurological consequences might arise. Even from within. Still, I think we're making it work as best as we can for now."
Jim sat down in her desk chair and pondered her thoughtfully.
"How's Spock feeling?", he asked. "I know I just talked to him, but I want your opinion."
Christine hesitated to answer for a moment. Talking about Spock's state of mind while he was still mentally present seemed nearly or even more ill-fitting than talking about him if he were physically present. But this was Jim, asking out of concern, not just anybody, and she had a feeling that she would not escape this conversation unscathed herself anyway.
"He's feeling…vulnerable.", she began. "The whole situation is challenging for him because he's a telepath, and it's so much harder to retain mental privacy when the thoughts and feelings just…flow. In both directions that is. But I also think it's an advantage because he's familiar with mental communication. I honestly don't know what would happen if not one of us had these telepathic abilities. I think we'd go mad. But it puts a lot of strain on him. I'm not telling you anything new when I say he's not used to sharing this much of his intimate thoughts. He's a very private person, and he likes to be in control of himself and his environment. All of that has been taken away from him, so it puts him in an entirely unfamiliar situation. He sees the positive in all of that as well, though."
"And what is that?"
"He enjoys the possibility of discovery, and is intrigued by the singular experiences we're collecting.", Christine answered with a fond smile.
"I would be a poor scientist if I did not see the appeal.", Spock agreed.
"You would not be Spock if you didn't.", Jim huffed. "Now, how is Christine feeling?"
"She's…scared.", Spock started, after a pause much like Christine's earlier hesitation. "It's only natural for her to feel trepidation, as no Human should ever expect to be in this situation. Additionally, she's trying to evaluate it from a medical and scientific standpoint and finds it unsettling that her fields of expertise are of no use to her. She worries…about our wellbeing and the limited possibilities to help. She still manages remarkably well, though. She told you our mental health would suffer if one of us was not a telepath. Be that as it may, I would say that her natural inclinations, as far as a person can have those regarding these circumstances, likewise preserve our sanity. She has shown remarkable composure in the face of the unknown, and her conduct has been commendable."
"High praise, coming from you.", Jim smirked.
"It is the truth."
"Of course."
Jim ran his thumb along the edge of Christine's desk while immersed in some thought.
"You're very similar, do you know that?", he asked eventually, and seeing as neither of the two seemed willing to dignify his question with an answer, he continued after a pause. "Both of you were forced to give up some things that made you feel safe. The comfort of being in control, and scientific knowledge to fall back on. And both of you hold yourselves responsible for other people's wellbeing. But you know what's great? You already help each other. You, Christine, give Spock the possibility to hold on to some measure of control, and you reign in his tendency to shut himself off. And then you, Spock, alleviate Christine's feelings of responsibility by your reassurance and appreciation. I dare say, it's a very human thing to do."
"The alternative is simply not feasible, Jim. Mutual reassurance is only logical in this case."
"Of course it is, Spock. That doesn't make it any less noteworthy. You're compatible; you make this situation work for you somehow. Honestly, I'm slightly jealous."
"We would have had to confine the two of you to sickbay because you wouldn't have stayed off the bridge, and you wouldn't have stopped delegating, and trying to solve everything by yourselves.", Christine laughed.
"Yes, probably."
Jim had to agree; his and Spock's sense of duty was part of what made them such a good team, but it also made them the worst patients of the Enterprise, apart from her doctor.
"I did wonder what it'd be like if it was Leonard being stuck with him instead of me.", Christine mused, unknowingly continuing Jim's train of thought.
"Well, I saw how badly that can work. Poor Bones nearly lost his mind carrying Spock's katra."
"I do not think the experience is entirely the same.", Spock interjected. "However, I cannot say why those experiences seem so different when they look very similar from the outside. I do agree that Doctor McCoy tends to react more sensitively to telepathic contact."
Christine snorted and it took Jim until she spoke to realise they had switched. "'More sensitively'? He'd be beside himself! He'd get himself worked up over your mental arguments and his incessant worrying at the same time! I'd have to throw him out of sickbay twice a day."
"You're not arguing?" Jim hadn't meant to sound as surprised, but he would expect at least some interpersonal conflicts to arise.
"Aside from Christine gloating at my misfortune once or twice, our cohabitation so far has been uneventful as far as interpersonal problems go."
"Gloating, Christine? I would have never thought you'd sink so low.", Jim exclaimed with played exasperation and winked at her.
Christine, in turn, switched to a playful defensive and said: "Well, I have to take something positive out of this. You should have seen his first tries at walking in high heeled boots."
Jim burst out laughing because he had unintentionally imagined Spock in his own body, trying to walk on high heels.
"Sounds fun."
"That is one word for it.", Spock scoffed.
To be continued...Hope you liked this one. Thanks for reading so far, feel free to review, and buckle up for what's to come!