They have found them! Let's hope they're not too late to save them! Will Leonard McCoy's birthday end well after all?

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"There she is!" Chekov shouted, pointing at the viewscreen.

Behind a small mountain range, slid half into a ravine, the unfortunate shuttle Galileo came into visual range.

"Well done, Pavel! Put us in an orbit directly above it that we have a chance to get them on scanners," Jim exclaimed. "I'll be in the transporter room, you have the conn."

He rushed into the turbolift and then jogged the remaining distance to the transporter room.

Scotty was already standing at the controls.

"I'm tryin' ta get a lock, Captain," he said, without looking up. "It's the blasted interference. And their lifesigns are weakening."

He adjusted the controls for a moment that seemed like an eternity to Jim.

"I've got a lock!" the engineer cried at last, and not a second too soon.

"Chekov to transporter room," the young navigator's voice came from the intercom, "the shuttle's gone, it imploded. Do you have them?"

"I think so Pavel, stand by," Jim said, with a sideways glance at Mr Scott, who only nodded stiffly and continued fiddling with the controls.

He had already started the transportation process. The question now was how much of them had landed in the transporter buffer before the shuttle was destroyed.

At last, the familiar light started to build up on the platform.

"Do you only have one pattern?" Jim asked as he saw that only one of the transporter pads lit up.

"Nay, they're just very close together," the Scotsman said quickly.

The transportation beam strengthened, very slowly.

The door opened, and a team of medics rushed in. Chris Chapel nodded at Kirk, and the team moved into position.

On the platform, the beam reached its full intensity and dispersed, materialising Spock and Leonard McCoy, huddled together on the floor, apparently unconscious.

The team of medics reacted immediately.

"40ccs inaprovaline!" Chapel ordered, and jammed the hypospray into Spock's arm, then did the same with Leonard.

The medics lifted the two unresponsive officers onto a gurney and wheeled them out.

Jim wanted to go with them, to see how his two best friends were faring but knew he'd just be in the way. In the doorway, though, Chris Chapel turned around again and gave him a quick, reassuring nod, before hurrying on.

Leonard McCoy slowly opened his eyes. The bright lights of sickbay greeted him. He blinked a couple of times, slowly regaining full consciousness.

Looking to his left, he saw Spock lying in the next bed, motionless and pale. For an instant, he panicked, thinking Spock hadn't made it. But then he saw the Vulcan's chest rise and fall under the heap of blankets, and realised he was merely asleep.

For all he knew, he'd need it. Looking back, he was sure Spock had not slept a minute during their time on the shuttle.

Leonard allowed himself the luxury of watching over his sleeping friend without worrying about him for once. Yes, him being in sickbay did speak for some medical concerns, but he could read Spock's biofunction monitor at this distance and saw that everything was within normal parameters, considering their situation.

When the Vulcan's eyelids fluttered open, McCoy propped himself up on one elbow and whispered, "Spock! We made it!"

Slowly regaining consciousness, Spock reacted to his presence and turned his head. "Evidently," he mumbled.

"Did you still hear what I said?" McCoy asked. "Before you lost consciousness?"

He wouldn't be surprised if Spock had missed everything he had admitted to him, having had difficulties staying awake for some time before falling unconscious.

Part of him wished he had missed it or forgotten. Not because he hadn't meant it, but because he had meant every single word of it, and if Spock remembered, he knew. Another, stronger part of him fervently wished that Spock had heard because there was no way he would repeat it.

Spock raised one eyebrow. "I did. I believe your exact words were…"

"I know what I said, you elf!" McCoy interrupted him harshly. Then he sighed, rolled his eyes and added, "Do me a favour and just forget it."

Spock's eyebrow rose even higher. "I will not," he protested. His voice grew softer as he fixed the Doctor with an intense gaze. "And neither do you want me to."

McCoy answered Spock's look grudgingly.

As nearly always, the Vulcan was right. There was a warm sparkle and a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched McCoy's reaction to having voiced something that their actions of the last decades had already spoken for anyway.

McCoy smiled back at him and nodded. He knew Spock would keep silent about certain details of their exile, as would he. But between the two of them, they would keep those memories as token of their friendship.

Having heard their voices, Doctor Chapel approached their beds.

"Already bickering again, are you?" she asked, shooting both of them a reproachful look. But it didn't quite reach its intended severity, as she was visibly happy to see them awake.

She quickly explained their medical situation and the consequences to them, which included taking them both off duty for at least a couple of days, warm drinks, warm compresses, and a lot of rest. After strongly advising them to stay in bed, she vanished abruptly and returned a moment later with two mugs of steaming liquid.

"What is this?" Spock asked when she pressed one of them into his hands.

"Tea," she said. "Drink, Vulcan dear."

She winked at Leonard and left to notify the Captain that they were awake.

"Someone was happy to see you alive and well," McCoy murmured after she had left around the corner.

"I should hope so," Spock answered, then glanced at the Doctor over the rim of his mug. "Yes, me, too."

Jim came bustling into sickbay some minutes later, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"You're alive!" he exclaimed.

"I fail to see the surprise in that after the time we've already been on board," Spock retorted.

"Well, it was touch and go for a while," Jim said, sitting down on Spock's bed. "We almost lost you in the transporter, and you were almost dead when you finally materialised. Only a good cocktail of stimulants brought your temperature near normal, but it took you hours to wake up." He glanced over at Bones who had paled abruptly when Jim had mentioned them almost dying during transport. "Oh, and Spock," he continued, "next time you send a letter, include your address, will you?"

"My address?"

"Your coordinates, so that we can find you."

Spock pursed his lips. "I did include them, Jim. They were simply…lost."

"You knew the signal was compromised, right?" Jim asked. "So then you just…waited?"

"Precisely," Spock said. "After a certain time, the chances of you finding us seemed vanishingly small, so we waited, and prepared, to meet our demise."

"Sounds very logical and efficient," Jim laughed. "You must have had a lot of fun with your hobgoblin, Bones."

McCoy shook his head. "Don't call him that, Jim…" The old moniker suddenly seemed cruel, considering what he had witnessed in the shuttle.

Jim threw the Doctor a surprised glance, then looked back between him and Spock.

"What happened down there?" he asked, sensing that there was a reason the Doctor was suddenly defending Spock.

McCoy only shrugged and mumbled something incomprehensible.

"What did you say?" Jim asked, sure that he had misunderstood.

"He even made me crème brûlée," Leonard mumbled.

"Well… in that sense…happy birthday, Bones," Jim said.

He sensed that there was more to it than this cryptic information, but the Doctor's tone and both their faces told him that he would have to accept not knowing about it for now.

Chris Chapel knocked on the doorframe of the ward to get their attention.

"There's a couple of people who'd like to see you," she said.

From behind her, Chekov, Sulu, Scotty, and Uhura entered and quickly rushed to the two beds to greet Spock and McCoy enthusiastically.

"We had planned a party for you," Uhura said as she sat down on a chair between the two beds. "But as you chose to be absent, this will have to do." She moved closer to McCoy's bed and bent down to kiss him on the cheek. "Happy birthday!"

"Happy birthday, Leonard," Christine said and bent down to kiss him on the other cheek. "We can all have a drink another day, I won't allow you alcohol in your medicated state."

"Thanks. I'm sure I'll be well enough soon," Leonard said.

"Let me be the judge of that," Christine said as she sat down next to the Captain.

Mr Scott approached Leonard and bent down as well.

"You really don't have to," the Doctor started.

But Scotty threw a glance at Doctor Chapel and took something out of his pocket. "I've something better than a kiss for ye," he murmured in McCoy's ear as he slipped a small bottle under his pillow.

Leonard could feel its hard outline under his head as Sulu and Chekov wished him a happy birthday as well. Apart from a suspicious look by Spock, the little present had gone unnoticed.

The friends sat and talked for a long while until Christine practically threw them out late in the evening. All, except the Captain.

Jim Kirk sat down on the chair between the beds, still wondering what this newfound truce between his two best friends was about. Close quarters like they had shared could make or break a relationship. Jim wouldn't have been surprised to find them disgruntled, arguing, and wholeheartedly annoyed at each other. Moments in which they decided to suddenly get along still surprised him after all they had gone through together.

After some time in the silent companionship of the two, he dozed off.

Leonard glanced at his softly snoring form, then over at Spock. He thrust his hand under his pillow and procured the bottle Scotty had given him.

"Well, it's no Kentucky bourbon, but this'll do," he mumbled, taking in the label of the Scotch.

Spock raised one eyebrow at him, which lost some of its impact by him being huddled up in blankets up to the chin.

"We are not allowed alcohol," he said. "As your superior officer, I should report this misdemeanour."

"You're not on duty," McCoy said, taking a swig of the drink. "And dying takes a lot of energy, you should know." He knew Spock would not rat him out, and he was a doctor, after all, he knew what he was doing.

He placed the bottle back under his pillow, mumbled, "Good night, Spock," turned on his side and was soon asleep.

Spock was settling into his covers to sleep as well when Doctor Chapel came in.

She gently placed a blanket over the sleeping Captain and turned to McCoy. With a glare at Spock, she thrust her hand under the doctor's pillow and pulled out the bottle of Scotch.

"Nicely done, sir," she said crisply.

"I did not give him the bottle," Spock said,

"You were complicit," she returned and bent over the Doctor to tug his blankets tighter around him.

Her eyes grew softer as she bent over Spock.

"You weren't really bickering when I came in, were you?"

Spock remained silent and only arched his eyebrows.

"Thought so," she said, smiling, and pulled his blankets up to his nose. "It's a nice change. And I'm glad you're back."

She patted his shoulder gently and smoothed out some creases.

"Good night, Spock. Enjoy the peace and quiet while he's still glad you're alive."

Spock pondered this last statement for a while after she had left. He had no doubt the Doctor was always glad he was alive, however irrationally he might choose to show it. However illogical the Doctor's ways of showing his affection for him, Spock was looking forward to more discussions and banter in the future.

He turned to face the sleeping Doctor and Captain. When Christine Chapel came back to turn off the lights, he was fast asleep.

The End.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it. As always, feel free to review, but no pressure!

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