And here we go with the last chapter. Yes, the main action is over, and everyone's back in their own body. But could we leave it at that? Definitely, no. And neither can Christine Chapel, MD.

Doctor McCoy kept the neurological tests on Spock as brief as he could. Spock, of course, insisted that he was fine and did not need the tests at all, but McCoy was adamant about them being done and that as soon after their experience as possible, just in case he had to prevent serious medical complications. To her credit, Chapel had only once protested that she could help out. After being reprimanded by McCoy that she, too, was still his patient, she had sat down on a nearby biobed and was patiently waiting for her turn.

McCoy ran a neural scan and a hyperencephalogram on Spock, and seeing that the results of the scan were within normal parameters and his BCP, his brain circuitry pattern, aligned with the one saved in his medical record again, he sighed, relieved to not only get conclusive results but to get good results at that. He had spent the last day fretting over the ineffectiveness of his medical abilities because the earlier scan done on Christine hadn't been able to differentiate between the two patterns, and the results from the neurocortical monitor had been expectedly inconclusive as well. He closed his examination of Spock with some behavioural tests, the results of which also aligned perfectly with his established normal condition.

Spock's health thusly reaffirmed, he was dismissed from sickbay and swiftly left without a backward glance, the Captain accompanying him.

They walked in silence until they had reached the closest turbolift.

"Deck 5.", Jim said while entering. Glancing sideways up at Spock, he asked gingerly: "How are you feeling, Spock?"

"I am glad to be in my own body again. This affair was a most disconcerting experience."

"I hope the good Doctor didn't give you too much trouble?", Jim asked with a smirk.

"No more than was owed to the circumstances.", Spock answered, assuming he was referring to Dr Chapel.

"It must have been very difficult."

"I have no doubt. No Human should ever have to face the situation she did.", Spock said evasively.

"Of course. But what about you, Spock?", Jim insisted, looking at him indignantly.

"It was challenging.", he admitted, addressing the door of the lift. "The constant presence of a second consciousness was understandably overwhelming." He turned to look at the Captain at last. "We were never truly alone, Jim. The persistent sharing of thoughts and mental images prevented any personal privacy. Our minds were constantly in communication, not one but always touching."

Jim smiled softly up at him. "Hm. I bet Christine didn't find it as uncomfortable.", he mused.

"She didn't.", Spock confirmed his hunch. "Dr Chapel practically rejoiced in our mental conversations and emotional closeness, despite the complications this exchange entailed. She reacted surprisingly composed."

"That sounds almost intimate."

"Jim, the Vulcan elders would have found it inappropriate, not to say revolting.", Spock protested emphatically, raising both eyebrows at him with a reproachful glance.

"I'm sure they would. And you? Did you find it revolting?", Jim confronted him.

"I did not.", Spock relented. "It was…shocking and overwhelming, but I did not find it revolting. I found it…constructive."

Saved by the swoosh of the turbolift door opening, he left the cabin, Jim at his side. Falling silent again, they languidly strolled the short distance to Spock's quarters.

"I will, of course, insist on a rematch.", he said suddenly.

"A rematch, Spock?"

"Of our chess match. I was handicapped and my performance was suboptimal." He quirked his eyebrow at Jim while extending the challenge.

"By all means! Tomorrow, after our shift. My cabin."

They had reached Spock's quarters and stopped outside the door, facing each other.

"Very well." Spock inclined his head, smirking ever so slightly at Jim.

"Well then." Jim turned to go and clapped Spock on the shoulder. "Good night, Spock. See you on the bridge tomorrow."

"Good night, Jim.", the Vulcan answered and turned around, entering his quarters for the first time in over a day.

A few hours later, Christine Chapel walked down the same corridor. It was late enough that she had not encountered a single crewmember on her way up from her quarters, but not yet too late for returning someone's belongings. She hugged the robe against her chest as she pressed the buzzer of Spock's quarters.

She entered to find him sitting at his desk, working at what appeared to be the report on this erratic mission. He looked comfortingly normal again, wearing the white turtlenecked undershirt of the command division, and casual duty attire pants.

He raised his head as she approached.

"Doctor Chapel. What can I help you with?"

"Oh, I…I just wanted to return your robe, Mr Spock.", Christine said, taken aback at the suddenly formal address and chiding herself for falling back to it as well. She deposited the neatly folded garment on his desk. "I put it through a quick laundry cycle, it was terribly dusty."

"Thank you.", Spock said curtly, turning back to his report. "Was there anything else?", he added, noticing that the Doctor had not moved.

"I…", she began, then faltered. Was there anything else? Spock seemed cold and uncommunicative in comparison to when they had shared consciousness, and even to their short time in the lab this evening. Even though she reminded herself that he was behaving quite normally now, she had to wonder if their shared experience had affected him at all.

"What we shared…do you…was it…", she stammered and paused again, dropping her gaze.

"What we shared does not lose in significance by anything I don't say."

Christine raised her eyes and met Spock's steady, earnest gaze. She nodded, and smiled sympathetically, recognising the implied answer to her question.

Murmuring goodnight, she turned around, to leave at last.

"Doctor….Christine..."

She stopped short of the door and slowly turned back to Spock. He had pushed the report aside and folded his hands in his lap.

"I hope you know that your help in this crisis was invaluable.", he said with a low voice. "You exceeded any expectations one might have had. Your composure and your kindness made the situation bearable. I trust you will not hold it against me that I have been little more than a burden?"

Christine beamed back at him, misty, forget-me-not eyes twinkling in the light of the lamp.

"Why, thank you, Spock. But you never were. Not to me. I think we both benefitted from our experience.", she replied in a hushed tone.

Spock inclined his head in a very subtle but meaningful gesture of agreement, and Christine turned to leave once more.

She turned around in the open doorway.

"Good night, Spock."

"Good night…Christine."

The automatic door closed with the familiar swoosh, concealing the executive officer's cabin from view. Outside, in the hallway, the Doctor turned on her heel with a smile on her face and returned to her own quarters, where the echoes of a second presence lingered.

...The End.

I hope you liked it, I had loads of fun writing it. We'll leave them for now, but they'll be back to their shenanigans in future stories. Thanks for reading and joining them on this new adventure! And please feel free to give me constructive criticism and positive feedback via messages or reviews. I'd be absolutely delighted. And thanks to all who have done that so far!

- hailing frequencies closed -