"Are you sure? This past week you've seemed quiet preoccupied and I want my sick bay running at 110%, so if there is a problem I'd like to know and help you in any way possible" McCoy said gently.

Emmy was shocked; he was good, very good. If Emmy knew for a fact that up until last week he had no idea her name, let alone that she worked for him, she would have fell for his acting skills. But she knew better and she wasn't going to let herself be drawn into his deceptive act of caring. Anger quickly flooded her veins; she knew that if the events hadn't happened with Commander Spock he would have gone right on ignoring her for the rest of the journey.

"With all due respect Dr. McCoy, please don't treat me like a simpleton. You and I both know that if certain events hadn't happened last week you wouldn't even know I existed, let alone reported to you daily, so let's cut the act and how about you try and treat me with some respect?" Emmy questioned her voice low but angry.

"Wow…you sure know how to pack a punch," McCoy muttered with the usual sarcasm Emmy was accustomed to hearing.

"I'm sorry, sir…" Emmy started to say, but she was waved off by McCoy.

"Don't apologize. You're absolutely right on all counts and it's me who should apologize. But I don't. So why don't you go over the case files for today?" McCoy ordered with a smirk, getting down to business.

"Yes sir," Emmy responded as she got up to leave.

"Oh, and Marsh," McCoy exclaimed causing her to turn, her hand still firmly on the door. "Just because I've been an ass of a boss doesn't mean I don't care. If you need to talk, I'm here," McCoy said softly, lacking his usual sarcasm and disdain.

"…Thank you sir." Emmy replied back actually meaning it before opening the door.

"Marsh!" he added loudly, causing most of sickbay to hear and focus all attention on the CMO's doorway.

"Yes sir?" Emmy answered through gritted teeth.

McCoy smiled brightly at her annoyance. "It's either Bones or McCoy. None of this sir junk, got it?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"Alright, McCoy." She chose the lesser evil.

"Good. Now get to work," McCoy smirked, turning back to his work. He ignored Emmy as she walked out of his office and into the bay, where random nurses where starring at her, causing her to blush from all the attention.

Thankfully, the rest of her double shift went uneventfully, peacefully even. With most of the crew on leave for the day, there were hardly any injuries. It gave Emmy a chance to catch up on all of the filing that had been stored but never sorted for Starfleet records.

It was 10 minutes till she was relieved of duty when it happened. To keep busy, she'd begun restocking all of the med beds in case of an emergency.

"I don't need to be here!" rang the loud, obviously drunk voice of Captain Kirk. Emmy turned slowly, watching as McCoy rushed to help maneuver the Captain to a bed. She could see the Captains girlfriend, Commander Katrina Richards. She'd joined as the new chief communications officer after Nyota Uhura requested a transfer around the same time Starfleet had informed the crew of their current 5 year mission on the Enterprise…

And dear gods above, Spock was in the same room as her. Thankfully he'd yet to notice her, so hopefully she could slip out undetected.

But she had no such luck. Emmy watched as Spock scanned the room, his eyes falling on her, and for a brief moment Emmy swore neither of them breathed—then the Captain spoke again.

"I'm Captain of this ship and I order you to let—OUCH! STOP DOING THAT!" he yelled as McCoy hypo-sprayed him. Emmy couldn't help but smile at the repetitiveness of that statement.

"Stop being a baby. This is your own fault," Commander Richards smirked as McCoy sprayed the Captain again.

"Aren't you supposed to be comforting me in my time of need?" Captain Kirk asked, his voice bordering a whine.

"Comforting you when you're injured in the line of duty, yes. Comforting you because you're an idiot who can't pass up a challenge, no," Richards answered with a roll of her eyes.

"But I—AHHH WILL YOU STOP THAT!" Kirk yelled at McCoy, getting only a smirk in reply.

Emmy turned her head to glance at Spock, only to find him towering right beside her, in her personal bubble, though personal bubble really didn't mean anything after you had sex with a person. Still, his sudden appearance made Emmy jump back slightly in fright.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to frighten you," Spock said in a low voice so as to not be overheard by the arguing occupants of the sickbay.

"What was your intention, then?" Emmy asked, matching his low tone, not bothering to deny that she had been somewhat startled to see him this close to her. Emmy stayed firmly where she was, keeping room between herself and the towering Vulcan.

"My intention was to inquire after your wellbeing," he replied, giving away nothing in his expression, his head inclined in her direction slightly.

"I'm fine." Emmy tried to pose a calm front like Spock did, but failed. She couldn't help but wonder why it was only now that she realized exactly how tall Spock was. She reached his heart, but not an inch higher.

"I do not mean to imply deception on your part, but are you sure?" Spock asked with a raised eyebrow that made butterflies gather in Emmy's stomach.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, challenging him to acknowledge what had transpired between them.

"The last time we spoke you seemed distressed. I only wish to correct any wrongdoing on my part," he said after a moment of silence.

"I'm…" Emmy started to say, but she was interrupted by the conversation with the others still in the bay, all the while cursing Spock for his intelligent word play. He'd acknowledged what had happened without actually even speaking the words out loud.

"You got in a drinking contest with some alien and you didn't even know what you were drinking?!" McCoy yelled in frustration before hypo spraying the Captain again.

"STOP THAT!" Kirk bellowed, his voice beginning to return to normal instead of drunk. "I—" he started again, but he was cut off swiftly.

"Haven't we had enough problems with unknown drinks lately!?" McCoy yelled.

Emmy was suddenly glad it was only the five of them in the sick bay, because instantly all eyes turned to her. She could feel Spock tense beside her, and even Commander Richards didn't seem surprised to hear McCoy's statement. It seemed that she, too, had been filled in on the events of the previous week. Emmy felt more mortified than ever.

"Marsh I didn't—" McCoy started when he realized what he had said, but Emmy cut him off.

"My shifts are done, sir. I think I'll retire now," she stated swiftly, leaving the room. She allowed no time for anyone to argue.

When Emmy finally arrived at her room, she replayed the conversation in sick bay a hundred times, becoming more and more embarrassed as her memory progressed. She let the doors close behind her before locking them with her pass code. Emmy sank to the floor, her back pressed against the door. She pulled her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, pulling herself into an upright fetal position. She hadn't been this terrified since the morning after her night with Spock…

Emmy had been awake for a while before Spock even stirred. It had felt so good in his arms that she hadn't attempted to detangle their limbs and head back to her quarters. She'd been so sure that he would know instantly she was awake that she wasn't pretending to sleep. Her eyes were open.

In Emmy's mind, she'd pictured him tightening his arms and pulling her close, giving her a kiss and maybe a repeat from the night before. What she got was a different story altogether.

She could feel the moment Spock awoke fully, his body tensed, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Their eyes met briefly, and while hers were warm and a small smile on f her face, his eyes were chillingly and unfeeling. He sat up in bed while Emmy pulled the blanket up more. She didn't like where this was heading.

She watched Spock assess the situation in his quarters, which were much larger than hers given the fact he was a senior officer. They were a mess—the coffee table was turned over, the couch on its side, books lying on the floor in front of the bookcase. Emmy watched as he got up, unabashed by his naked body, and began to dress. She couldn't help but take one last savory look at him before he was fully dressed.

Once he was dressed, he headed to the door. He wasn't avoiding her gaze as though embarrassed, but instead was focusing pointedly on nothing as if thinking intensely. What a way to end a wonderful night, she decided, thinking it could get no worse than it already had.

"I will be locking you in my quarters until this matter is fully closed and resolved." Spock addressed her without even looking at her.

"But—" Emmy started, wanting to explain

"Unless you would prefer the brig, which would be put on your Starfleet records," Spock interrupted, turning to look at her with an impassive face and a raised eyebrow as though he was daring her to object again.

"No sir," Emmy murmured quickly, looking down in her lap and waiting for him to leave so her tears could flow freely.

There was a moment of silence, where Spock neither moved nor spoke to her, as though he was indecisive about something. Then the door opened and she could feel him leave the room, his presence no longer weighing as heavily on her shoulders.

Emmy heard the beeping of the computer as the security code was entered from outside the room. She waited for a few seconds before letting the tears fall unabashedly.

Three hours later Emmy was beginning to think that they were filling out the papers to have her court marshaled and sent back to Earth. She didn't understand what was taking so long. She'd spent over an hour crying, until she finally drained tears dry and was able to move from the bed and get dressed.

It took her a while to find all of her clothes, and she couldn't find her panties anywhere. After she gathered everything together, she freshened up in his bathroom, where she discovered the bite mark. It was red and dried blood was still visible on certain places of her skin. It was becoming a dark purple and turning into a deep bruise; she poked it once and flinched back in pain before adjusting her shirt to cover it. She then made her way over to Spock's bed and sat silently for a few more minutes until the memories of last night and this morning started to replay in her mind.

Emmy knew that she couldn't sit there and doing nothing, so she stood and assessed the damage they had done to Spock's room. She glanced at the bed and was mortified to find a blood stain on the sheet. It wasn't due to her bite or a period of any kind. She quickly stripped the sheets before recycling them in the replicator.

Dear God, she hoped he hadn't seen that this morning. It would be like adding insult to injury, Spock already thought she had something to do with his actions the night before.

Emmy couldn't believe that she'd been naïve enough to think that Spock had actually wanted her— that his long hidden passion for her had finally erupted and last night was the result. God, what a fool she was. She could feel her face going bright red with embarrassment, and she'd never felt so stupid before in her life.

She replicated a new set of sheets. They were as close as she could configure to Spock's sheets; she hoped he wouldn't object to the difference. She made the bed quickly before heading to the bookshelf, first observing the order in which the books were placed before putting the fallen books in what she hoped was their correct spots.

Next, she moved to the coffee table and the couch. Though the couch was much heavier than she had anticipated, she righted it, but not without a sharp pain in her back. Emmy plopped down on the couch ungracefully and tried to gather her breath. She could feel her face begin to cool as the relaxation settled in.

She was starving, but she wasn't all that sure how or even if the replicator in Spock's room could replicate food. The corridor to her room had 10 other rooms, all double occupancy, and there were two replicators, but they only made new uniforms and sheets after depositing old ones. Normally she'd go to the mess hall, but since she was locked in, she couldn't.

Which she wasn't quite sure she understood—she was 5'1", 120 lbs. It wasn't like she could be a threat to anyone, and they were in the middle of space traveling at warp speed. Emmy supposed that by locking her in, Spock felt like he had control of the situation…or maybe he actually thought she was a threat.

Just as Emmy was about to start pacing the floor again, the door opened revealing Spock, looking like a regal Vulcan, which in her mind meant sexy as hell.

"I've spoken with the Captain about the unfortunate events of last night," Spock started, his face blank.

Emmy felt her breath hitch at the word 'unfortunate'—had she been that bad? Or was it just because it was her and not Commander Uhura? She couldn't help but replay his choice of words in her head repeatedly. Each time it felt like Spock had rammed a knife in her gut. She was so preoccupied with the pain of that one word that she missed half of what the Vulcan was saying.

"Wait…what?" she asked dumbly before she could stop herself. She hoped she wasn't coming off as an idiot—what if he thought she couldn't understand what he was saying?

"Captain Kirk and I have informed the CMO of the events in question. After running tests, it was discovered that the drink I consumed last night was laced with an aphrodisiac only potent to Vulcan's," Spock repeated, as though he was talking about the weather and not a night of passion.

Emmy just nodded dumbly—what exactly could she say that wouldn't make her seem like more of a fool?

"My actions were not my own, and know that, if they had been, the events of last night never would have never occurred," he continued calmly, while Emmy felt like she had just taken a fist to the stomach. Her eyes began to prickle, a sure sign of tears, but she managed to calm herself. Now was not the time to react, not in front of this logical Vulcan.

She just nodded, hoping he was done and she could retreat back to her room.

"I have regained my control, but wish to meditate to purge the memories of this unfortunate incident from my mind. I am sure you would like to do the same" Spock spoke calmly, arms behind his back and standing at full height like he had been through the conversation.

She stood there, not moving for the exit and just fully absorbing Spock's last comments—'Purge the memories of the unfortunate incident…you would like to do the same…' and Emmy couldn't control the tears this time. They started to drip down her face slowly, but she knew it would only be minutes till they were uncontrollable.

"No matter what may have occurred last night, no matter how much we would prefer they didn't, you will remember that I am your superior," Spock commanded, breaking her heart again. She could feel him waiting for a response.

"Yes, sir," she said as loudly as she could without her voice breaking.

Spock nodded in response to her agreement.

"Dismissed," he stated from the same position he'd been in the whole time.

"Yes, sir," Emmy said quietly. Her voice cracked she headed for the exit.

"Are you alright, Nurse Marshalls?" Spock inquired, but his inflection never changed.

"…Yes…s-sir," she blurted before leaving his quarters quickly, knowing that her sobs had broken through with her last reply.

Just like that day, Emmy couldn't stop the sobs that escaped her as she rocked gently back and forth against her door hugging her legs to her even tighter.

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Once again thank you my craz insane redheaded beta!!

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