A/N:

In this chapter... implied Nyota/Spock, Chekov/Sulu, implied McCoy/Chapel. There's a bit more testy material... we see McCoy angst, and I'm not even sure its canon angst. Still don't own Star Trek. Enjoy!

21. Comfort

"You wanna talk about it?" McCoy eyed Uhura over the rim of his glass. He was drinking water; she was drinking scotch. Nyota had never ran to a man in times of trouble. She had always been able to handle things, whether her emotions or her actions, for herself. In this case, however, she had needed a drink, and McCoy had the goods. It was only logical that she was sitting across from him now. There was also the slight part of her that didn't really want to be alone.

"He said I was an illogical and emotionally motivated being." She took a drink of her scotch and tried to ignore the tears welling in her eyes. She tried to tell herself that they were from the alcohol burning strong in the back of her throat, but she knew that was a load of bull shit. "That I lacked the mental faculties to effectively constrain emotion and physical response."

McCoy wasn't going to pretend to understand that, but even for Spock-speak it sounded unnaturally harsh. He watched Nyota's lip tremble. "The worst part is... he doesn't even realize that he hurt me." She had been hurt... cut to the quick. "I wish I knew what to say kid." And he meant it. He really wanted to make her happy, but as he had nothing that would accomplish that he settled for pouring more scotch into her glass. She thanked him. It wasn't like she expected him to have all the answers. She expected him to have alcohol.

She knew it was the only comfort he was able to offer.

22. Multiplication

"They're so cute!" Kirk exclaimed, holding one of the small furry bundles close to his chest. He tickled it below what he guessed was its chin... did small balls of fur even have chins? He didn't worry on it to long, content with exclaiming again the cuteness of this new furry object.

"They do seem to be aesthetically pleasing." Spock commented from his position behind the captain. McCoy shot him a glare that was equally returned. The last thing he needed was the Vulcan getting all sentimental on these hazardous little bits of fur.

"I know! How could these pose a danger to the Enterprise Bones? Sometimes I think you're just paranoid." Kirk sat the thing down and turned to face his chief medical officer. They formed a nifty little triangle. Kirk tried to reason with the medical officer and Spock even put in an interjection every now and then.

For a moment McCoy couldn't speak. "Look!" He exclaimed finally, pointing at the table. Kirk turned around and gasped. "We turned around and there were two and now there are three. These things multiply like rabbits, Jim, in fact they're worse than rabbits."

"It appears the doctor is right," Spock conceded. "It would be best to dispose of them as soon as possible."

"But Spock... look at them... all... four of... five... six?"

"Try ten." McCoy said, his eyes glaring at the captain. "We need to get rid of these now before this becomes a situation."

"Now don't exaggerate Bones." Kirk said slowly. "I can only count... ten... fifteen... thirty... fifty...?" His face fell. "Okay, maybe I see your point..."

23. Truck

Christine Chapel wouldn't have thought Uhura to be good company at a bar, but as it turned out she was about the best friend to go out and get wasted with during a two day shore leave. They had been drinking and dancing since ten o'clock. It was two in the morning now, and the bartender hadn't even begun to consider it closing time.

"Our men are out doing their own thing..." Uhura said loudly over the pulse of the music as Christine ogled a very handsome cadet. "So it would be entirely logical for you to talk to him. Kind of a look but don't touch method."

Christine sent her one of those 'you-sound-like-Spock' looks that Uhura received often these days and then smiled, taking a step towards the cadet. "But I like touching." She said with a wicked glint in her eyes.

"But you have to work with Bones for the foreseeable future... so cheating isn't an option. If you wanna break it off you gotta lay it down nice and slow."

"I don't want to break it off." Christine said, suddenly sobered.

"Well then... just go have fun."

Three hours later Nyota gave up the dance floor for a barstool. She searched for the glint of Christine's blonde hair just in time to see them slip out of the door on the arms of the same handsome cadet. She followed quickly.

They were, predictably, headed to his truck. Well, he was headed that direction tugging Christine reluctantly along. She tried to slur out a protest but it wasn't effective. Nyota appeared by her sides in the seconds it took him to fish his key out of his pocket. She admired the vehicle.

Her voice was friendly but her face was not. "If you don't mind I'm gonna take my friend home now..."

"Well, yea... I kinda do mind... Lieutenant." The last word was said with a bit of disrespect. She smiled and nodded. "We were just headed back to my place..." This was going to require a different tactic.

"Nice truck." He seemed taken aback by her sudden compliment. To struck, in fact, to act when she took Christine around the shoulder and guided her away. About fifteen feet away she looked back over her shoulder and shouted loudly, "That truck's a fair compensation for your small penis, don't you think?"

24. Water

A human being could live for weeks without food; however, a human being could not go three days without water. He would die. Sulu considered this fact. It was one he wished he did not know. The landing party had been abducted two and a half days ago. Uhura and Spock were working feverously to communicate with the hostile inhabitants of the unknown world, but they were running out of time.

He knew that a lot of the stress among the crew came from the fact that the captain was in that landing party. He couldn't help but wonder if they even once thought about the young boy with bright red hair that had been so excited to be participating in his first landing party. The boy who had kissed him goodbye and when Sulu had told him to be careful whispered soflty in his ear, "I always am." Had they thought about him?

25. Lock

The whole point of the exercise, Kirk recalled, had been to promote teamwork and understanding of various cultures and duties aboard the ship. Plus it had looked fun. He had already apologized profusely for his error, but neither Spock nor Scotty would look him in the eyes. He really did feel bad about it. It was intended to bring everyone closer.

He hadn't really intended for the two of them to end up handcuffed together... he really hadn't. That had been luck of the draw. He also hadn't really intended to lose the key. That had been bad luck. He had really thought he had another key hidden somewhere in the cushion of his captain's chair... but in reality there were some crackers, a couple pennies, and a old piece of paper... no keys.

So now Scotty complained incessantly that nothing was going to get done in engineering. Spock sulked his way through any activity aboard the bridge. Even Nyota was beginning to get moderately annoyed that she could no longer have any alone time with Spock. She would glare at him, and mutter under her breath in a very violent manner that if he didn't find the key soon she would hurt him. He believed her.

This went on for about four days before McCoy came sauntering into the bridge. "Damn it Jim, I told you not to leave your shit lying around my office." He placed the small silver key on the arm of the captain's chair. "It's been there for four damn days. I hope it wasn't anything important." He walked out mumbling something about captain's having a bit more responsibility and kids who can't even keep their room's clean running Starfleet...

26. Slip

In the given circumstances there was not a single ounce of his action that had been logical. As much as he tried to find a way to fit the words into a logical pattern he could not. The only attribute that popped to mind was a very simple, very human, slip into subconscious action. He tried to meditate, to block the feelings he was currently struggling with, but his mind would only replay the event over and over again. He was besieged by guilt. He was in a committed relationship with Nyota Uhura. It became the mantra he repeated to himself over and over again.

His world had no place for further slips in his emotional and physical control. He was in a committed relationship with Nyota Uhura. Especially when said slips involved Jim Kirk. He did not have any spare silk in his complicated web of control to dedicate to Jim. Spock wondered when he began to think of him as Jim and not captain... when had his mental faculties started slipping? Was that what had led to today's unfortunate slip in physical separation from him?

Chances are, Spock reasoned, he was making a much larger deal of the incident than necessary. Kirk probably hadn't even noticed the brief period of physical contact. People accidentally brushed past each other every day. Especially in close quarters. Especially in the mess hall. Especially when they were talking. Especially when they were both reaching for the same paper. But Spock had to wonder if today's slight brush of hands was truly an accident... I am in a committed relationship with Nyota Uhura, he reminded himself again. It had to have been an accident.

27. Class

If there was one thing James T. Kirk was less than used to being told it was that he had class. He didn't have class. He might have been suave. He might have been lucky with the ladies. But class? Hell no. He wasn't anything close to classy. Or at least he hadn't been.

Kirk could never remember putting on a tuxedo, even for his senior prom. He could never remember trying to mind his manners around those of importance. Manners be damned... and the establishment be damned too. He hadn't needed them. He hadn't needed class.

However, presiding over the Enterprise meant many formal affairs in which not adhering to dress code was not an option. He was representing too many people to display bad manners. Any negative action on his part would be amplified and projected negatively on the rest of his crew and the rest of Starfleet. He would not have that...

Now it seemed that in an incredibly short amount of time Kirk had changed an incredible amount. He looked himself over in the mirror. Dress uniform, clean hair, clean shaven. He exuded confidence. He was becoming a spokesman for the establishment he had so easily damned as a kid. He was, in a way, no longer a rebel.

McCoy called this growing up and said that a lot of time responsibility could cause it to happen.

28. Vacation

Almost dying had a way of bringing people together. It had a way of making someone realize how much they cared about someone else. So, the day after Chekov was released from the medical bay following the return of the abducted landing party, Sulu requested a two day semi-vacation from the bridge. He needed to focus his attentions elsewhere at the moment. Thankfully the captain had understood and let him off the hook.

It was with an angry relief that Sulu allowed Pavel to collapse in his arms that evening. Wet tears fell down both of their cheeks. "I'm so wery sorry." He pleaded. Sulu quieted him with a violent kiss.

"I thought I would lose you. I was scared to death that I would lose you." It was prudent that the boy understand this. Chekov nodded. His lips felt bruised, but he rejoiced because he was alive. They lay like that for a while, huddled around each other. Eventually Chekov drifted into a fitful sleep and Sulu lay awake listening to his slow even breathing and knowing he was not alone anymore.

In the morning the boy wondered why Sulu hadn't already left for the bridge. Afraid he was running late, Chekov tousled his lover's hair and woke him. "The Keptan will be expecting you." The bright blue eyes suspended over his face were the most beautiful things Sulu had seen.

"I'm on vacation... so I could spend time with you." Chekov was equally entrapped in Sulu's dark chocolate gems. He liked this idea... a lot.

"Are we going somevhere, then?" He asked in a tone of faux innocence.

"Oh, trust me..." The voice sounded almost primal. "Pavel... I have no intentions of leaving this room."

29. Dream

"Spock..." Kirk began a little hesitantly. "What did you want to be as a kid?"

"It is quite apparent that I wanted to be a scientist, Jim, or else I would have taken the logical path for the field I was interested in."

"But if you couldn't have been a scientist... what would you have been?"

A pause. "I do not know." Spock's expression was somewhat puzzled.

"Really? I always wanted to be an architect. But... you have to have good grades."

"It is my understanding that your marks in Starfleet were above average."

He ignored this. "So you really don't know what you would have done?"

"Well, I suppose I never considered any option besides science."

"Hmph."

"This displeases you?"

"It's just strange... usually every kid has a dream job. Racecar driver, jet pilot..."

Another pause. "Perhaps I am not being truthful... There's always been something I have found pleasing that I would enjoy attempting to recreate. It is rather illogical."

"And what's that? I promise I won't laugh."

"Classical folk music... circa the 20th century Americas." Needless to say, Kirk broke his promise.

30. Today

Today was his daughter's 18th birthday. He thought with dismay about all the things he had never been able to experience with her.

Her first boyfriend. Her first car. Her first kiss. Her first prom. Her first college acceptance letter. Her first heartbreak. Her first scholarship. Her first failing grade. Her first job interview.

He had missed it all. All because of his damn ex-wife. But, he reasoned momentarily, it was probably better that he wasn't in the picture. That way his daughter could grow up to be the best woman she could be, without images and ghosts of her dad haunting her. It was best that she never know him, or at least never remember him. It saddened him. But it was true.

Bones was never meant to be a father. He drank to much. He cursed to much. He hated to much. He was afraid of to much. Until Starfleet he couldn't really hold a steady job.

Part of him still hated it though. He hated the fact that his own flesh and blood had been stripped from him. He had never been permitted to send her any birthday gifts. Or any Christmas gifts. In fact, he wasn't allowed to have any correspondence with her at all.

Would he really have been that bad with her? Would he really have screwed her up so much that for him to even see her face was detrimental? He wanted to be able to say he was proud of her. But he couldn't even do that...

All he could do was know it was her birthday. And he could celebrate that happy day alone, thinking about her.

Thinking about what was so damn bad about himself that he didn't even get the opportunity to love her like he should have.

A/N:

"Nice truck... sorry about the small penis." Was originally seen on a bumper sticker. I have nothing against people that drive trucks... I just thought it was funny. On another note to save my hide, I really do like Uhura. I think she's pretty awesome... but I don't like Nyota/Spock... at least not for this story. Favorite would have to be 29... least favorite 28. If you have seen anything in the past chapters or if you seen anything in those forthcoming that you would like to see extended, let me know! I'm looking for a bit of a longer project. Thanks everyone! Review and stay tuned for more!