Spock and Vivian continued their efforts to spend more time together, sometimes strolling about empty decks after hours, or other times playing chess in the officers' lounge.
"Vida...Latin root."
"Yes, my father's predecessors were of Latin American descent. I grew up in Texas. My father married a human and my mother married another Vulcan. Despite my father's affection, I never quite fit in with either family."
"That is unfortunate. While my parents remain married, I sometimes wonder if an arrangement similar to yours would not have been more functional. I struggled to balance both sides in the presence of each. Perhaps, I would have felt less conflicted if I had the opportunity to experience both sides separately, in their allotted contexts."
At one point, she asked to see his spot on the bridge. She'd seen it before, but she never entirely understood what it was exactly he did. They went to the bridge long after the usual staff retired for the night. A skeleton crew operated the helm, wearing large headphones that made them unaware of the goings-on behind them. They were able to enter and approach his seat, which he promptly took.
"And this reads radiation," He explained, pointing at various meters, knobs, and switches. "Take a look through here." She nodded and took a seat, in his lap. "Vivian, there are other chairs-" Her legs were wider than his. The warmth and weight was inexplicably pleasant. He could smell the sweetness of her hair. Her full buttocks almost cradled his member. He cleared his throat, and she took the signal to step away.
She pictured him behind her again, ripping at her undergarments, and leaning her over the machinery. The men at the helm wouldn't even notice...or maybe they could. Part of her liked the idea of getting caught. Unfortunately, it seemed that he didn't share the sentiment, or, was at least better at maintaining composure. Much like other nights, the touch she craved was not given. Part of her wondered if his lack of affection was his Vulcan discipline or an effort to maintain professionalism aboard the ship. The other part of her wondered if he didn't like her, wasn't interested, or didn't find her to be attractive.
Dr. Vida also adjusted to the routine of the bridge crew. Often, Kirk went down with a landing party and Spock took command. Other times, Kirk insisted Spock go with him and Scotty handled the bridge. Most of the time, she didn't know what was happening, given that she was on a science deck. Alerts only came to the whole ship if they were in danger. On occasion, if there was a rustle outside of her lab, she could pop her head out and ask what was going on.
Out of nowhere, the door to Dr. Vida's lab slid open.
"Doctor, they're calling for extra hands in sick bay." Another physician turned scientist popped his head in.
She stood from her computer and blinked moisture back into her eyes, "Why? What happened?"
"One of the officer's got injured."
"What?" A sinking feeling settled in her gut.
"I don't know- they beamed down to a dead ship and apparently there was an explosion of some sort."
Dr. Vida ran with him, down the hall, up the elevator, and to the sick bay. In the hall, there were shouts about an incoming patient. In the chaos, she heard the words she feared: "It's Commander Spock." Her pulse beat in her ears. Sweat began to form on her forehead. Her stomach turned. Despite her urge to fall to the ground and cry, she knew that he would disapprove of such a display. He needed her to keep her cool, be rational, and treat him with the same exceptional care she gave to all of her patients.
McCoy's voice came through a communicator, warning his team of the severity of the situation. A routine recovery of equipment from a powerless ship turned deadly when a reactor exploded. The explosion shot shrapnel, and Spock had been impaled.
Mentally, Vivian prepared herself, pleading with her Vulcan side to take over. She ran to the sick bay to collect a floating gurney.
"Thanks for coming to lend a hand-" Nurse Chapel's chipper demeanor shifted when she noticed the expression of her colleague, "It must be bad."
"It's Commander Spock- he's been injured...Dr. McCoy says its bad. They're about to beam up." She bit the inside of her cheek and she scrubbed her hands and found gloves.
The Nurse followed suit, her stomach in knots. Unlike the doctor, she didn't have a Vulcan side to help her keep it together. Like the doctor, she had feelings for Spock. The fear in the doctor's eyes alerted the nurse to that similarity. She'd helped in serious cases before, minor battles even, but this was different.
They arrived in the transporter room in time to see light materializing into figures. Kirk and McCoy had their wounded friend hanging between the two of them. The women met them with the stretcher so they could lay the man down. He was paler than usual, sweating, and unconscious. His clothes were a mess of green blood and a large piece of metal hung out of his abdomen.
Vivian wanted to stroke his hair, and tell him it would be ok, but she wasn't there as his ko-kugalsu. Now, she was there as his physician. Her advanced knowledge of Vulcan biology meant that her participation could determine life or death.
Instead, Chapel took his hand. "Commander Spock, can you hear me?"
They ran alongside, back to the med bay, where a surgical crew was waiting. McCoy shouted orders for cocktails of drugs while nurses buzzed around, turning on lights, hooking up monitors, and preparing a sterile field.
Dr. Vida swallowed hard, her mouth dry. He was fine this morning. Everything was fine this morning. This morning I told my mother about the wedding.
"Dr. Vida," Kirk interjected, knocking her out of her panicked trance.
"Yes Captain?"
"Are you sure you should be here?" He furrowed his brow, anticipating this sight was a difficult one for her.
"Absolutely." She answered as she took surgical scissors to her sa-kugalsu's uniform.
The table beeped with vitals- present but weakening.
"Dr. McCoy, try to remove the foreign body. I will be right under you with cautery-"
"Have you done trauma surgery-"
"All due respect, doctor, I'm more adept at the Vulcan vascular system." The pen in her hand sparked.
He followed her plan, removing the metal piece with the help of nurses. Other surgical techs immediately inserted retractors while Vida touched the oozing vessels. Her brain had finally detached from the situation. With the drapes, she couldn't see his face, which she could imagine would now include tape over his eyes and a tube in his throat. This was just a bloody mess that needed fixing, nothing more.
"Heart and lungs untouched," She announced, matter-of-factly, "Neuro assessment to be conducted following a return to consciousness...provided there is one."
"Alright let's disinfect and close. It's a waiting game now." McCoy announced to the team who started in with saline and sutures.
"No," Dr. Vida shook her head.
"Excuse me?"
She stepped away from the table, yanking off her gloves, mask, and scrub cap. "He needs a transfusion."
"And where exactly do you plan on-" He turned around to find his coworker tying a rubber strap around her arm with her teeth.
"I assume you can handle closing." The O.R. team froze as Dr. Vida attached cords to bags and promptly plunged a large gauge needle into her arm. With the other hand, she maneuvered herself onto another table and laid back.
"Doctor, you can't possibly provide the volume-"
"Not if you just stand there, I can't. Let's get a good volume now to start transfusion immediately." Gravity did its job, the bag beneath her filled rapidly with a thick, green substance. "After I lose consciousness, start a separate IV with fluids. He needs fluids too. Remember, it's not iron anemia, it's copper anemia. He gets the blood as fast as I can turn it over, understood?"
"You're a mad woman!" McCoy shook his head in disbelief. Vivian stared at the ceiling as it began to move in circles and darken. He watched as she went limp on the table. "But you just might save his life...what's all this standing around shit?! You heard the doctor! Grab one of these bags and start a line on him."
Vivian heard voices, low and easy. Her eyes blinked lazily for a moment as her body began to shift on the table. Her groan alerted the room.
"Dr. Vida, how nice of you to join us?" McCoy snarked, immediately approaching to shine a pen light in her eyes.
"I feel like I got hit by a racing vessel." Her body ached, but her head felt too light.
"Yeah, that's what happens when you lose too much blood." She began to push herself upright. "No ma'am." He tucked a pillow behind her head and pushed her back down. "Give it a couple minutes."
"Spock-"
"His vitals are stable...but his brain went without blood for a hot minute so we're not out of the woods yet."
"Another transfusion-"
"No ma'am, not now- the Captain wouldn't appreciate my draining you to death. We can revisit the conversation when you're a little stronger. You think you can eat something?" He got her some water and a protein bar, which she made slow progress on. He watched her watch Spock through the door of the intensive care suite. "Now...am I to believe your...heroics earlier came from military duty? Or is it some kind of Vulcan 'women are supposed to serve their men' thing?"
"Both, I suppose."
"Because...you know...if I didn't know about those two reasons..." He raised an eyebrow and smirked at her, "I would think you had feelings for him."
"I-"
"I know y'all don't like emotions and all that, but I don't think there's anything wrong with it. Hell, girl meets boy- it's the most natural thing there is. I think it's a beautiful thing too...and I'm real happy for ya. I just hope Spock knows how lucky he is."
"...Commander Spock is not an emotionally expressive man...While I anticipate he will fulfill his commitment to me, I am unsure of how he feels about it, or IF he feels about it."
"He's gotta care for you. He'd be stupid not to! Besides, he's not as stone cold as he claims. I promise ya that."
Vivian only left the sickbay to return to her quarters briefly to shower and change clothes, both sleeping and taking her meals near Spock. Dr. McCoy had usual patients and new complaints to manage, but, given the importance of the first officer, the Captain thought he needed round-the-clock care. Dr. Vida was the perfect choice, as her personal research could wait. She worked some, from her tablet, between moderating IV medications and adjusting blankets.
A few days in, she even sponge-bathed her patient, gently washing his lean form. The Captain was a man known for his body, how it moved, how he used it, how he expressed himself physically. Spock, on the other hand, was a man of the mind. He had a functional body, one many would find attractive, but that was not often how he chose to express himself. He seemed otherworldly, somehow more evolved than those so tired to their forms. The only experience Vivian even had with his body was chemically induced, and out of character. She wished he would choose to express himself with touch, to embrace her from time to time. This bathing exercise was the most prolonged physical contact she'd even had with him, and the vulnerability of it would undoubtedly make him uncomfortable were he conscious.
She fluffed his pillows and brushed his hair. His wound dressings were changed daily, and an in-depth verbal record of a patient chart was updated by the hour. Cool water was kept on the bedside table in case he roused. It took a week to see improvement in brain scans, at which point Dr. Vida slowly began easing him off of the sedatives and pain killing drug cocktail. She knew that she could force a stimulant, attempt to shock him into consciousness at any time, but her impatience would be unethical. His best chance at recovery would be if she moved slowly.
Dr. Vida always asked permission from patients before touching them or performing any procedure. Despite her current one's inability to answer, she maintained her narration of treatment and reasoning. Occasionally, she found herself talking to him, mentioning what they should have built in a new home on Vulcan, or detailing dishes she hoped would appear at the feast following the koon-ut. This came, not from a hope that he would hear her, but a confidence that he wouldn't.
Two weeks following the injury, Nurse Chapel heard something strange. Dr. Vida had gone to her quarters to shower and change. Nurse Chapel was lightly applying a cool compress to the patient's head in her absence. She thought she saw Spock's Adam's apple move as though he swallowed. Then she heard him exhale louder, a murmur of something.
"Commander Spock! Can you hear me?" Her eyes brightened at another mumble, almost a hum. "Dr. McCoy! I think he's coming around!" She shouted into the next room. Unsure of which word came out, she leaned her face closer to his. Once she was sure, she wished she hadn't. Vivian. He'd asked for Dr. Vida.
Dr. McCoy rushed into the room, "Spock, 's-that you?" He began checking monitors and fiddling with IV bags. Nurse Chapel backed up to the wall, remaining silent. She felt relief at the improvement of his condition, but confusion as to why he'd asked for the other doctor- if he knew who his primary caretaker had been.
"What's going on?" Dr. Vida returned to the intensive care suite, surprised by the extra person.
"Our patient seems to be on the mend, doctor. I think he's starting to wake up now." Dr. McCoy smirked. "You green blooded bastard...you pulled through." He saw her eyebrow raise, "Oh! Pardon me, that's just a little inside joke of ours...no offense meant to...anyone else with green blood- Real bang-up work you did." He pat her on the arm.
The patient wet his lips. Vivian went to the bedside in time to hear what she could've sworn was her name.
"I'm right here," She assured, feeling she should touch him somehow, but unsure of what he would deem acceptable.
His eyes fluttered for a moment.
"Hello again." She made no attempt at hiding her smile. "Can you hear me?"
He groaned, "Jumbo mollusks."
"My God, he is brain damaged." McCoy's comfort turned quickly to concern.
"Spock?" Dr. Vida tilted her head to the side, "What did you say?"
"We should serve..." His words were labored, "jumbo mollusks."
"What's he on about?"
Vivian's smile brightened, "Oh, so you HAVE been able to hear me for some time hm?" She proceeded to take a round of vitals, "How are you feeling?"
"Sore...but relieved."
She increased his pain medication.
"Statistically...I should not," He panted, "Have survived."
"Shhh, take it easy."
"Oh you most certainly would not have...were it not for Dr. Vida here. She tied off vessels I forgot were there, not to mention the transfusions. Where do ya think all that blood came from huh?"
He seemed to become more alert, producing a face neither of the doctors were familiar with. "You...saved my life."
"We'll give y'all a minute," McCoy motioned at Chapel and they exited together. In the sick bay, he noticed her furrowed brow.
"He favors her."
"Well I sure would hope so. The wedding's in about three months."
"Ha-ha, very funny, doctor."
"No kidding, ship's got a course for Vulcan and everything. Apparently, they're serving jumbo mollusks." He pat her arm before returning to his desk.
Nurse Chapel excused herself, a knot forming in her throat.