Overnight bag in hand, Spock arrived at Vida's suite just a moment before McCoy did. Their patient slid in and out of consciousness in the hovering equivalent of a wheelchair.
"Hey V, we gotcha home now. Ok?"
"This is mine?" She mumbled as her eyes rolled around aimlessly, "Wow..."
"We're gonna getcha to bed now." McCoy feigned an encouraging smile before turning to show Spock the drip. "Fluids, pain management, sedative. First two are on. The third, you just twist here but only this far and she'll be out in two shakes."
"Two shakes of what, doctor?" Spock put down his bag and immediately went to her dresser to find her something comfortable to sleep in.
"Its a saying, you know what? Forget it."
"No," She groaned.
"No? What do you mean no?"
"Shower," She pushed herself up from the chair and headed for her bathroom.
"Viv, you can't stand up straight and I have other patients-"
"I can help her."
"Spock-"
"Dr. McCoy, Vivian finds showers calming when she is unsettled. It is a cleansing ritual in more ways than one."
McCoy groaned and rubbed his temples, "Fine...But then to bed. If she starts shaking- call me. If she starts sweating- call me. If her temperature changes drastically in either direction- call me. If the bleeding worsens-"
"Call you. I understand."
In his attempt to help her, Spock had to resign himself to a shower too. It should have been a strange situation, but nothing felt uncomfortable. They were nude but it wasn't sexual. She didn't have to ask for specific help, as he could anticipate her needs. He handed her the items he'd collected and helped her maneuver the IV while getting into the baggy shirt and panties. After getting her to her bed, he followed the instructions for the drip and then dressed himself in the closest thing he had to loungewear. By the time he finished and unpacked a few of his things, she seemed to be sleeping soundly, still toward the edge of the bed.
He settled in a nearby chair with a tablet to begin work, but his mind quickly wandered back to the woman on the bed. The mixture of admiration of her and pity of her injuries was familiar- much like when he'd first met her. This time, there was an added component of familiarity; they were colleagues and friends. More importantly, they now knew each other intimately and were set to be legally bound. While he knew it was somewhat petty, and now irrelevant, he wondered about the pregnancy. It explained his strange symptoms, but he was baffled that she hadn't recognized it for herself. Then again, he recognized that she was busy, stressed, upset about her break up, and had never experienced pregnancy before. He thought it odd, but practical the way all three of them had referenced pregnancy as a health condition or disease with consequences to manage later as opposed to the start of a family or continuation of a species. Quickly, he tried to read something else to distract him. The sentiments were discomforting and his curiosity burned. He wanted an answer to the question of paternity. Either way, now it didn't matter. Either way, she was suffering physically and would perhaps suffer a sense of loss. Had the universe somehow corrected the mismatched pairing of a Vulcan leader and a human? Or had he lost something too? If he had been the father, then at least he would know they could successfully conceive. The idea of potentially becoming a father in a year and a half had intimidated him already, but the idea of having already, in a way, been a father was somehow even more unsettling. As confused as he was, he could begin to consider how confused she must be.
Spock stood and put his device on a nightstand. He'd been looking at her, and something seemed off: she needed socks if she was going to sleep. He hadn't spent a night with her- he shouldn't have known that, but he did. Somehow he knew where to find socks, and which ones she preferred. It was like a logic puzzle, making the image before him match one he'd seen before, despite having never seen it. She needed to be positioned differently too. After debating how to shift her, he gently sat on the bed as if he were getting in. He took her under her arms and pulled her upward. She slid upward, and, in a moment of half-consciousness, rolled into his lap.
"Vivian, I did not intend..." He hesitated, seeing her snuggle so securely into him. With a sigh, he slipped a pillow between her head and his legs and made himself comfortable.
"Captain," Uhura stood at attention when Kirk returned to the bridge.
"No Spock?" Sulu span around in his chair.
"He uh...he's with Dr. Vida." Kirk took his seat and seemed to slump slightly.
"So are ve dropping her off at ze next base?" Chekhov turned to face Kirk, "If Dr. Wida's hawing a baby I-"
"She's not." Kirk cut him off, curtly.
"Oh," Chekhov looked confused but shrugged it off and returned to his work. Maybe in his mind he'd rationalized Mudd's announcement was in error. He was young, relatively inexperienced with women, inexperienced in medicine, and otherwise had a lot to learn about life.
Sulu's eyes widened with concern and stayed on Kirk, looking for further explanation that wouldn't come. Uhura's hand moved over her mouth, as she put it all together.
McCoy knocked once before sliding the door open. The screen on the wall glowed in the dark and the lamp in the corner was the only light on in the room.
"How is she?" He whispered, sliding the door shut behind him. Although he was surprised by their configuration, he said nothing.
Spock blinked and sat upright in the pink bedding. He'd unintentionally fallen asleep. Vivian was curled up, her head on a pillow in his lap. Her hand rested on his thigh, IV still attached.
The doctor knelt and waved a device over her, seemingly satisfied with the readings. "Well she's fine…physically anyway…" He grumbled and rubbed his chin.
"I am unsure of what to expect when she wakes." Spock's brow furrowed as he moved to brush her hair from her face.
The other man took a seat in the desk chair. "I don't know either…everybody's different…Aren't you supposed to know? The whole two people one brain thing?"
"You said her system was in shock. I could not ascertain specific emotions…She has also, since our skirmish in the transporter room, made conscious efforts to block my access."
McCoy smirked, "She's damn plucky. That's for sure."
"In regards to the…confrontation, Leonard I-"
"You don't have to say it…me too…" He sighed.
"I was aware she had a human lover, which I had accepted for the time being. She had also accepted that she would have to end that relationship. Those facts did not disturb me until...There was a shift after our encounter in her laboratory-something primitive and territorial-"
"I REALLY don't want to say I understand you but...I get it. Listen, I didn't mean to come after you either. I knew she had some arranged Vulcan fiancée situation, but when I found out it was you…my temper just couldn't handle it. Some faceless asshole out there in the distance is one thing, but finding out who…and that who is a fr-acquaintance."
"My thoughts were similar…Someone unnamed or less relevant would have been easier to dismiss…You, however, are notable, and have many admirable traits. I could see how a woman would find you physically attractive-"
"Are you trying to butter me up?"
"The two of you share many commonalities which…I could not begin to understand…I know you love her…and she returns your affection." Spock looked down with a sort of heaviness.
The doctor's smirk slid away when he noticed a twinge of something in Spock's face. "I thought jealousy was a human emotion."
"I…regret that she had to end your relationship…when you made her happy…"
"My God," McCoy's eyes widened as he sat forward, "I didn't think you were capable…but you love her."
"I am unsure of how to describe what I am experiencing."
"Well you'd better figure it out!"
Spock raised an eyebrow.
"Listen, I don't know jack about your Vulcan customs, but it sounds to me like you two are getting hitched. That's well and good, but she's a human too dammit. You are too, whether you'll admit it or not. You owe it to her to at least try and make her happy."
"How do you suggest I go about that?"
"Romance her! Put on the charm-wait, you don't have charm-shit." He ran a hand through his hair. "Get to know her. I know you know the Vulcan scientist who's good at her work and a damn fine physician too. Smartest person I've met, hell, would give you a run for your money. But… spend some time with the human Vivian too…She…she likes old music- got a real pretty voice, and she'll dance to just about anything. She's a great cook, baker too, but if she's baking for herself then you know she's stressed out. That's when her sweet tooth really comes out."
Spock nearly smiled.
"If she's by herself in here, she's in a big ole t shirt and fuzzy socks, but no pants-"
"No pants?"
McCoy laughed and shook his head, "No, she hates wearing pants…and she prefers to sleep nude."
The Vulcan's eyebrow raised, "That is an efficient form of temperature regulation."
When they were alone again, Spock caught up on some articles from academic journals that he had saved up. Hours later, he noticed his sleeping partner shift.
"Vivian?"
She groaned, her voice hoarse, "Hi...where..." Even in her haze, she could recognize her room and check the time. She attempted to sit up, but mostly just rolled back onto the pillows. "Are you real?"
His head cocked to the side as he checked her eyes: unfocused and unresponsive. He attempted to limit his amusement. "Yes...and you are intoxicated...How do you feel?"
"Ow."
"A reasonable response."
Squinting, she wiggled her hand. "I don't like this."
"You're a physician. You understand the need for-Vivian!" His even tone spiked when she ripped the IV from her hand.
"Fascinating," She mumbled as she watched the green begin to surface from the new wound.
He dove into her bathroom, knowing she would have medical supplies.
"Ow! Dang it-why..."
He slapped gauze on the back of her hand and squeezed as he rifled through her medical bag with his free hand. "I now understand the expression 'doctors make the worst patients'. " Finally, he tightly wrapped her hand. "This should stop the bleeding. Later, I will apply an antibiotic cream."
"I didn't know you were a doctor..." She giggled.
"I am not, but Starfleet officers have to complete emergency medical training...If you do not wish to have an IV-"
"Pills...In the cabinet..."
He found pain pills, sleep aids, antibiotics, dated like they were left over from her near-death experience months ago. "Hydration is crucial to your recovery...If I made tea, could you drink a cup?"
She nodded.
As he worked, he felt a mixture of agitation and amusement at her child-like condition.
"Are you buying me a drink?" She managed to get upright.
"No."
"Because I am unable to engage in coitus with you at this time-"
"I'm not here to engage in coitus."
"Then what do you want?"
"To monitor your vitals and ensure your safety."
"That's nice."
Spock returned to the bed with a tea tray which steamed with herbal aromas. "Drink."
When Vivian picked up the cup, she shivered. He found a blanket under the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.
He studied her face but was unable to enter her mind due to the drugs.
"Am I ok?" Her confusion seemed genuine.
"According to present measurements you are physiologically stable."
For a few moments, they sipped tea quietly.
"I'm sorry," The whisper rattled on the teacup, "I didn't mean...I mean it was accident-injure-ugh...I didn't even know..." Forming words was a struggle for her impeded mental state. She put the teacup down, nearly dropping it.
"I know...but you have no reason to apologize. You were harmed. In the subsequent minutes you behaved admirably, made rational medical decisions, and likely saved your own life. I would not anticipate anyone else would be able to remain centered and manage such a situation so effectively. You're quite remarkable."
"I...I don't," She exhaled and ran her hands through her hair with frustration. "I'm confused...I...I think I'm sad-sorry...You-you don't feels...and it's not logic-"
"Vivian...I am certain in saying that...in this case...I believe disappointment is a rational response...We can discuss this matter further when you are sober."
"Tired."
"Rest would be beneficial." He stood to put the tea tray back.
She attempted to stand by herself and wobbled. He happened to catch her arm to level her balance. They locked eyes for a moment. She managed to transmit to him nonverbal feelings of appreciation. Even clouded as she was, she could register his concern for her. Other shared sentiments bounced back and forth between the two: confusion and something akin to grief.
Once she could grip the wall, she could take herself to the bathroom and back. When the door opened again, she saw him taking a seat in a nearby chair.
She climbed back into bed with a groan and situated herself under the covers. "Is it night?"
"Yes."
"You...you need to sleep too."
"As you are aware, Vulcans can go without sleep for an extended period of time." He had already returned to his work.
"I'm cold."
"Raise room temperature two degrees." He instructed the computer.
"You're warm."
His back to her, he raised an eyebrow. She was alluding to something, and he was unsure of what the appropriate response would be.
"Spock?"
"Yes?"
"Could...would you-you could...you sleep with me?" The covers flopped open in his direction.
For a moment, he scanned the thoughts he had access to. Although he had worried about taking advantage of the situation, he found that she would have actually be interested in being his bedmate even were they not in their current predicament. She was more bothered than she was willing to admit and in need of a companion...in addition to, of course, a heat source.
He nodded and carefully slid into the open space. Immediately, she curled in towards him, resting her head on his chest. She felt physical warmth, in addition to an intrinsic satisfaction of being safe, wanted, and cared for.
"Thank you," She mumbled as she slipped out of consciousness again.
Spock reached over Vivian to tuck in the sheets, cocooning her. Again, he experienced a radiating, mutual feeling: belonging.
The next morning, McCoy checked in again. Vivian insisted she be cleared to return to work the following day, which he hesitantly agreed to. He suggested she make time to talk to the psychologist on staff, but she refused, assuring him that she had someone to talk to. As a matter of fact, she and Spock had an in-depth conversation that morning about what had happened. In an odd way, they bonded over the shared sense of disappointment. Neither grieved a person, per say, since neither had been aware of the pregnancy to begin with. Instead, both recognized a kind of missed opportunity for a new member of an endangered race. She had gone as far to say that she did the math and was confident in saying he was the one to produce the pregnancy. This was an unfamiliar, bittersweet sensation. As some consolation, they recognized that this did mean they were capable of conception together, even outside of the range of Pon Farr.
McCoy thought to tell them that she was alright to be left alone but didn't. Spock looked comfortable, at ease in her space. He was always telling him to relax and to get some rest, so now was as good a time as any. In this situation, he agreed to be away from the bridge because he thought his observance of Dr. Vida was productive. He could tell that they appreciated one another's company, which provoked a bittersweet feeling. It would be a lie to say he no longer had feelings for Vivian, but he would also be lying if he said he thought they were "right" together long term. Watching her with Spock...they just fit...
By the afternoon, she was tired of being in bed, and challenged Spock to a game of three-dimensional chess.
"I must warn you," He commented with the slightest hint of self-satisfaction in his voice, "No one on this ship has been able to beat me at this game."
"I understand. I have no intentions of beating you." She noted as she sat across from him and crossed her legs.
He raised an eyebrow, both at her comment and lack of pants. "Elaborate."
"I am unlikely to beat you, but if I memorize your strategies, I am more likely to beat others." The edge of her mouth ticked up.
"Logical..." He nodded, attempting to divert his eyes from her thighs. "You have no pants."
"I have pants. They're in the dresser. I choose to be without them in my own quarters as I find them restrictive. I have no concern for modesty in your presence, as you've been in both my mind and vagina."
"A valid point."
"Will this distract you from your game?" She raised an eyebrow in amusement.
"Not at all."
He beat her, of course.
They worked more in the afternoon, shared their meals, and watched a filmed stage version of a Shakespearean play in the evening. After, she stood to get ready for bed. He stood, as if ready to leave.
He had a thought but hesitated, unsure of how she would react. Finally, he spat it out: "It would be wise...given the date...for us to allocate time to make preparations for the move the New Vulcan."
"And the Koon-ut." She added, surprising him, "Although I am unsure of how to manage a koon-ut so'lik given that I have no surviving Vulcan family."
She anticipates a koon-ut so'lik. "I will consider alternatives...Perhaps even the involvement of your human family." He surprised her.
"You would allow them to participate?"
"They are your family. After Vulcan was destroyed..." His voice trailed off, "It is important that we maintain the familial relationships we have remaining."
She nodded, making eye contact with him in the mirror before beginning to brush her teeth. It was quiet for a moment, other than the sound of her brushing. The bathroom was foggy from her shower and smelled like soap and mint. He began collecting his things.
When she spit out the foam, she popped up with another question: "How do you feel about condoms?"
"What?"
"How do you feel about condoms?"
He raised an eyebrow, "I fail to see how that is relevant given we will be expected to produce offspring following the koon-ut." He met her eye in the mirror again, "Unless you were alluding to a potential for recreational intercourse prior to the koon-ut?"
"Not now of course. I typically recommend my patients refrain from sexual activity for a minimum of four weeks following any procedures that involve cervical dilation."
She anticipates recreational intercourse. "Understood."
"You're packing?"
"Dr. McCoy said you were stable."
"Oh...right." Her face masked her disappointment, but her voice didn't.
"Despite the circumstances...this time has been...pleasant."
"Agreed...and if I needed to talk to someone about those circumstances-"
"I am willing to listen and engage."
"...thank you...I am inclined to embrace you...if that would be appropriate."
"Certainly." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
She buried her head in his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Did you know hugs have biological benefits? They can reduce stress hormones in the blood stream as well as blood pressure."
His mouth twitched upwards, "Then it would only be logical to engage in this behavior frequently."