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Chapter 5: Enamored

Sickbay

I reach my hand out and desperately try to grab the bandages lying right in front of me on one of the maneuverable trays in Sickbay. Just as I anticipated my hand falls straight through the objects as if they are simply a hallucination. I growl and try again. Once again I fail, and in an effort to release my frustration, I angrily slam my palm onto the table. "Dammit!" For some reason, I can touch some of the larger objects in Sickbay, like the table, and at times I can even make contact with smaller items, but I still haven't found a way to move them or even pick them up.

"Your actions appear futile, Captain. I do not believe the results will change after an eighth attempt." Spock informs me stoically. The Vulcan is sitting on one of the Sickbay beds with his legs dangling off the side. It would appear comical if the man didn't look on the verge of passing out.

"I touched something when I was in the engine room," I announce with frustration. "It was just a screw, but hell, it means that there's a chance I'll be able to pick up one of these tricorders!" I know I can't really blame Spock for not helping, but the least he could do is respect my efforts. I try again, my hand slipping through every object laid out on the table. This is horrible. I have everything I need to help Spock laying right in front of me, but I can't use any of it. I turn back to Spock, my expression uncharacteristically helpless. "We need Bones," I confess. There is a few seconds delay before Spock comprehends my words.

"That does not appear possible at this time," Spock replies slowly, his gaze concentrated on his boots.

"I know, okay! I'm trying." I rebuke. I know I don't look very captainly throwing a fit like this, but to be honest, it's been a rough day. My whole crew thinks I'm dead and if I don't find some way to keep Spock awake, he'll be dead from blood loss in a few hours… maybe less. Spock glances up at me, his gaze nearly sympathetic. My shoulders ease downwards and I feel my muscles relax slightly. "I don't want you to die…" I say. Spock tilts his head sideways, faintly perplexed.

"My condition is not critical. You do not need to concern yourself…"

"I do! I do have to concern myself."

A dead silence settles between us, which is only interrupted by a nurse humming in the neighboring room. I sigh, trying to change the subject. "Do you have any ideas as to what this is?" I ask, gesturing to our surroundings. It takes another three seconds for Spock to manage a reply.

"I would only be speculating…"

"Then speculate."

"The force of the blast combined with the unstable nature of the reactor's contents may have created a portal into an alternate dimension."

I stare at him.

"Wow, you're really speculating…" I remark.

"No such incident has occurred in Starfleet records, thus there is little knowledge of this phenomenon," Spock explains swifter than before. At least he's talking faster now.

"How do you know all that?"

"I find the prospect of other dimensions highly probable and… fascinating." I smile at him. I can't really help it. He's adorable when he's curious about something, which happens quite frequently. I wonder whether curiosity can be considered an emotion. If so, Spock epically fails at hiding it.

"So assuming your theory is correct, which it normally is, is there any way we can transport back, or at least communicate with our own dimension?" Spock's eyebrows lift upward, which is a telltale sign that he has a plan. "You've got an idea," I point out knowingly.

"Telepathic abilities have been rumored for centuries to be able to permeate dimensional barriers," Spock explains. I quickly catch on to what he means.

"Do you think you can meld with someone?" I ask, taking a few steps closer to him.

"To achieve such a connection across dimensions would take a great deal of concentration. I may be able to reach another mind, but in my current state, I would be unable to navigate it, especially without that person's knowledge." He says plainly. Not to mention, it breaks a couple of stringent Vulcan disciplines about not messing with people's minds without their consent, I finish internally. Both of us know that Spock will do whatever is necessary to get us back to our dimension, but it's still a concern at the back of our minds.

"What if the person was asleep? If you didn't have to wade through all their thoughts?" I suggest hopefully.

"Interesting." Somehow I can tell that he's concerned that he didn't think of it. "I am not sure. It could simplify the process."

I smile. At least we have a plan now.

"You need help, and I know one sleeping doctor who would love to see us."

Sickbay, Outside Bones' Office

Spock and I head towards Bones' office, which is where we last saw the good doctor. It's 22:00, so my best bet is that Bones is asleep on his desk again. I casually move towards the door and, expecting it to open, I walk straight into it. "Ow! Dammit!" I curse, as I fall backwards onto the floor with my hand covering my nose. To my surprise, the door does not open for me nor can I walk through it. Spock stands over me, looking down with only the faintest concern. Then his emotions slip entirely as his lips twitch upward into a graceful, subtle smile. "You're smiling at me!" I accuse, pointing a finger up at him. As quick as it had appeared, his smile vanishes as if it had only been an illusion.

"No, I am not." I frown at his obvious lie. "Should I remind you next time that the doors do not recognize your presence?" Spock asks.

"That would be great, Spock. Preferably before I slam my face into them." I counter sarcastically.

I know that Spock is teasing me. I'm not sure why other people always say that the Vulcan doesn't have a sense of humor. It seems that he's making fun of me constantly. Maybe I'm the only one who notices. Well, besides Bones. Our quarrels are nothing in comparison to the always-amusing arguments between Bones and Spock.

I raise my hand towards Spock, silently asking him to help me to my feet. The Vulcan just stares at my outstretched arm uncertainly. I sigh and ungracefully pull myself to my feet. I always forget that Spock doesn't like to be touched. I can't help it. I'm just a touchy feely person and so I just assume that everyone else is just as comfortable with physical contact. Even if Spock did like me, how could we ever be in a relationship? I can't even touch him.

So now we're stuck here outside Bones' office until someone either enters or exits. I take a deep breath to calm my rampant impatience. I'm not sure Spock will be well enough to initiate a mind meld by the time we finally have a chance to see Bones. Not to mention, Bones has to be asleep in order for us to even have a chance of communicating with him. Unfortunately, we don't really have another choice besides waiting because we can't leave Sickbay without someone else triggering the Sickbay doors. The only reason we got into this room to begin with was because we were following Bones.

I sigh and sink down to the floor. I might as well sit if I'm going to be stuck here for hours. Meanwhile Spock just stands, his absent gaze fixed on the wall in front of him. I suddenly realize that he's listening to something.

"What do you hear?" I ask. Spock glances down at me as if trying to decide whether or not to tell me.

"Dr. McCoy is crying." Spock answers simply.

"Oh." Maybe I didn't want to know that. I turn my gaze back to Spock.

"You know you can sit down if you want." I offer. Spock tries to resist the idea, but ultimately decides that it's better for his concussion if he sits. He settles onto the floor right next to me. We both have our backs to the wall and we are only half an inch apart. It's strange, but I'm not sure I've ever been this close to Spock before. I can only see Spock's profile from my position and my eyes are drawn involuntarily to the pointy tip of his ear. Against all reason, I really want to touch it… or maybe even kiss it. Spock suddenly looks at me out of the corner of his eye and I am forced to hastily turn away.

I suddenly wonder whether the Vulcan can read my thoughts. If so, I'm in deep trouble. I've never really asked him before about Vulcan telepathy. Overall, humans know very little about Vulcans. I always found it strange that humans know so little about our closest ally in the Federation. It's as if all Vulcans have agreed to be secretive around us. Actually before I met Spock, I had never met a Vulcan and plus, I know for a fact that Spock is the only Vulcan to ever enlist in Starfleet.

All I really know about their species is that: they are private and disciplined in not showing their emotions, they are three times stronger than humans (I learned that first-hand), they have better hearing than us, they're peaceful, they can perform mind melds, they don't like to be touched, they have cute pointed ears, they make the best first officers, and their body temperature is really warm and comforting when they're sitting right next to you. I spare another glance in his direction. Maybe this is the perfect time to tell him how I feel.

"Spock?" Why does my voice sound so strained?

"Yes?" I fumble for the words, but quickly loose my nerves as Spock's concerned eyes meet mine. I can't risk losing his friendship, especially now since he's the only person I have left.

"Someone lured me into that engine room." I admit suddenly, changing topics entirely. "Someone on this ship tried to off me."

"Off you?" He asks, unsure of my meaning.

"Someone tried to kill me," I clarify.

"Such a scenario appears likely."

"But why? How would the murderer stand to benefit from my death?" Spock takes a moment to consider this. I can somehow see his mind racing to compile a list of all the possible motives and suspects. Maybe I shouldn't be asking him any questions considering the gaping gash on his skull.

"The most probable motive would be to take command of this ship." Spock says. "However, that would make Scotty and myself the top suspects." I laugh.

"I sorta doubt you tried to kill me." I comment with a smile. "And I know Scotty. Scotty's the best engineer in Starfleet and I know he prefers it that way. He wouldn't want to be captain. He's a great friend and that man can't hurt a fly."

"Revenge is a common motive," Spock suggests.

"Now that's one I'm more familiar with!" I exclaim. "I've had people beat me up just for revenge." My shoulders drop a little, my smile faltering. "But I thought everyone on this ship kinda liked me?" Spock raises a skeptical, teasing eyebrow. I frown. "Is that look necessary?"

"I am not sure what 'look' you are referring to." I sigh with frustration.

"I swear you pretend to be this dense just to annoy me."

"I have found it to be a most useful technique." Spock comments, catching me completely off guard. If Spock wasn't… well… Spock, I would seriously punch him in the arm. "Is there anyone with a reason to seek revenge against you?" Spock inquires, resuming our serious conversation.

"Not that I can think of." I desperately rack my brain for any enemies. I've been surprisingly amiable as ship's Captain. "There's that Cupcake guy from security."

"Cupcake guy?"

"Yeah, we got into a bar fight once back in Iowa after I called him cupcake." I explain, remembering that I didn't know Spock back then. "He's also the guy who dragged me and Scotty onto the bridge after we illegally beamed aboard during warp."

"I see."

"I haven't seen him since you beat me up on the bridge," I comment, not realizing this fact until now. I really haven't seen the big guy around anywhere. "He's probably scared of you," I tell Spock honestly.

"Dr. McCoy has already informed me that a majority of the crew is intimidated by me." Spock agrees. "Have you dismissed anyone from duty recently?"

"Um… I signed off the paperwork for the demotion of science officer Daley, but I believe that is more your doing than mine."

"The officer used the lab irresponsibly and for authentic culinary pursuits that do not pertain to science." I roll my eyes at my serious friend.

"So the man tried to bake brownies. Sure, it wasn't a bright idea, but hey, they tasted really good." Spock's dark eyes narrow slightly.

"You ate them?"

"Well, of course I did. The man has talent. It's not his fault that there's no kitchen on board." I defend. "Maybe I should formally request one the next time we arrive at a Star Base for maintenance." Spock simply ignores this statement and continues his string of inquiries. I notice that he hesitates before asking the next question.

"Are you currently engaged in an intimate relationship with any member of this crew?" I really really have to fight to keep a blush from rising up my neck and to my cheeks. I should've figured he'd ask… but what do I say? Should I tell him? So, instead of facing the question, I do what I do best, buy time.

"Is that your way of asking if I'm single or not?"

"Yes," Spock answers quickly. Well, that did not buy me as much time as I had hoped. At least his reaction time is up. "Personal relationships offer the potential for disagreements that can possibly lead to passionate acts of violence." Spock explains in an effort to justify prying into my private life. I'm not convinced, but I resign to answer him anyways.

"Um… no, I'm not involved with anyone and I haven't been since I became Captain of this ship." I confess. Sure, there have been rumors of me dating yeomen or various ensigns, but to be honest, they're all false. Sure, I have a tendency to flirt with some of the girls onboard my ship (mostly Uhura), but it's all harmless and only because I'm not sure how else to act around them. Then again, I sort of flirt with Spock on a regular basis too; although, I try to keep that more subtle. That being said, I think Bones has started to notice.

"Are you currently enamored with any member of this crew?" Now I'm really starting to suspect that Spock has an ulterior motive for these questions.

"I don't think that's relevant."

"We may be able to expel the motive of jealousy if you can confirm you have not expressed an intimate interest in anyone," Spock explains emotionlessly.

"I-" I am completely enamored with you? I really desire to be in a romantic relationship with you? I think you're perfect in every way? Of course, none of these answers have a chance to fight their way to the surface. "I don't think jealousy is the motive."

"You are evading my question." Damn, why is Spock suddenly so persistent? I sigh in defeat and anxiously run my hand along the back of my neck.

"I… like someone, but I haven't really made it obvious." Spock raises an eyebrow.

"Who?"

"Okay, now you're just blatantly prying," I accuse, smiling.

"I am merely attempting to narrow our list of suspects."

"Suuuurrrre you are." I comment sarcastically. I then roll my eyes if only to disguise the fact that inside my chest my heart is racing.

To my relief, I hear a sudden pattering of footsteps headed in our direction.

"A nurse is coming," Spock informs me. I rise to my feet and glance over at the pale Vulcan.

"Are you sure you can do this, Spock?"

He doesn't have a chance to answer as we hurriedly follow the nurse into Bones' office before the doors shut on us.

Can y'all please review?

I'm not sure how many people are genuinely following this story. Normally I have a surplus of chapters already written when I post a story, but this time I'm writing as I go, so when I only get three reviews on a chapter it sort of deters me from writing. I was tempted to discontinue this, but thankfully my muse returned.

I really like the plot of this story and I would like to know if you guys do too.