Disclaimers: I don't own the Star Trek franchise, it's characters, or any other references made.

A/n:*Kreyla: A sort of bread like food that Vulcans sometimes eat with Plomeek soup.

Little fun with the sehlat and Bones!

Chapter 4: Me, Myself, and I-Chaya

Spock recalled traveling with his sehlat off route when he was younger. It was a secret between his friend and himself. There were days in which meditation would not sedate his human blood, and he would require space for himself. Away from the unsatisfied glance of his father, away from the pitying eyes of his mother, and away from the classmates that viewed him as a creature below them. A creature to be tested and analyzed rather than having an intellectual conversation with. I-Chaya would be able to take him distances. These were places the sehlat would pick seemingly at random. They would find obscure villages that wouldn't recognize them or they would simply lay in the softer sands of the Vulcan planes and bask in the sun rays. He vaguely wondered if his father, who had owned I-Chaya before him, would go through these treks with him or simply deem it a useless quirk of the sehlat.

The plan was to check into each village and inquire about his sehlat. His friend would have to feed himself, and therefore, the most logical solution is to make a pit stop at a village, a source of water, at least. This theory could also be countered by finding a small creature and attempting to eat it. The first thought was the one Spock believed to be the preferred situation, but I-Chaya was a curious creature. One could never know what he would want to eat at random. Many times either Spock or one of his parent would have to prevent their furry friend from eating strange objects. Age, it would seem, did not come with wisdom when it came to I-Chaya's eating palette.

The Vulcan glanced at the sky. The sun was beginning to set, as it had been 6 hours since he had gone to search for his sehlat, and he knew that regardless as to whether or not he would want to continue or not, it would be unreasonable to ignore the food his mother made him. He unraveled the blanket protecting his food and laid it out on the sand. There was relatively little winds, and this pleased Spock immensely, he would not have to concern himself over whether or not the sand would blow onto his food. He took out a thermal holding Plomeek soup and unraveled a *Kreyla and placed it before him on the cloth. He estimated the first village he would arrive in would take no more than 3 hours, so he had plenty of ration to go by. As he watched the sky, he contemplated whether or not his sehlat was eating as well as he was. He took a bite of his Kreyla, he would need to eat quickly if he wanted to arrive to his destination before it was dark.

McCoy began to squirm; desperately trying to hang on to his sleep. He hated sleeping in the heat. Did someone turn on the heater? Jesus, he was probably sweating all over his clothes. And what the hell was up with this wool blanket? He never owned-

A loud snore made him recall everything that happened before his slumber. The doctor immediately stopped squirming with wide eyes. He had apparently been laying against the bear, who was still fast asleep. Would it still be friendly? Or was it only nice to him to lower his guard? He shifted slightly and his back began to scream agony. He had slept in an awkward position and now he was paying the price. As he glanced onto his lap, he could see that all his rations were still tied snug in his bag. That's good, he would live a while longer. He scrubbed his face in thought and felt the prickling of his five o' clock shadow. Or at least, he thought it was. He wasn't sure what time he crash landed, and he had no idea how long he was out for. The sun was still out, but it was quickly starting to get darker. He'd think that it would get cooler too, but it seemed that that wasn't going to be the case here. He shook his head. He was sleeping in odd schedules on the ship anyhow, so he was most likely suffering through jet lag. This planet was on 24 hour interval of days, right? He wasn't too sure on how long he was out.

The bear began to shift and McCoy stood up quickly. Again, it's not like he could run away from it, but he wasn't about to lay on top of it when the creature could very well not want him in his personal space. He paused, checking the bear as it began to stand up. Yep. Male. That made it all the more fun, didn't it? He hoped he wasn't territorial. Or anything remotely like the bears back at Earth. Lord save us all if the fella got tired of rations.

The bear smacked its lips and shook off some off the sand still attached to itself. McCoy simply stared at it in awe. It was seriously the hugest bear he's ever thought possible. Bears were large, sure, but this one was taller than him even on all its fours. Picturing him trying to stand on his hind legs cause his blood to run cold. Leonard's whole torso could fit inside that guys mouth. He flinched as the bear turned to him. He tried avoiding its eyes directly, but kept tabs on him as he stepped closer to him. He sniffed him over and tugged on the black shirt holding the bars and water bottles.

"Okay, okay," McCoy grumbled, "hold on a sec, I just had to make sure you weren't about to eat me."

The bear made a small growl under its breath, and continued to tug, even as McCoy tried to pull out the food, "Don't make me yell at you," he warned, tugging back. He finally freed two bars and used his mouth to peel the silver wrap. Once he freed the first one, he tossed it at the bear, who let go of the bag to catch the snack. Unprepared of the sudden release, McCoy fell backwards and spilled his food.

"Real graceful," he muttered to himself, trying to brush off the sand on his body. Once the bear saw the rations on the ground, he began to scoop them up. McCoy panicked as he broke open two water bottles, "don't waste it, you moron!" he cried, trying to shoo him away, but the giant creature let out a low and intimidating growl. All McCoy could do was step back and glare at it with defiant eyes, "You want to steal my food? Is that it?" He pointed at the fast drying water on the sand, "See that? You could have drunk that water. I would have given it to you. It's wasted away on the sand now, thanks to you,"

The bear kept licking the water spilling from the bottle, but kept his eyes on McCoy. Once he finished, he nudged one of the water bottles toward him. The doctor darted his eyes back and forth between the bear and the drink skeptically, and bear pushed to bottle toward him again. Hesitantly, Leonard gripped the bottle, his eyes still darting back at the bottle as he looked back at the bear.

"You're giving this to me?" he asked it, curious at first, but then frowned, "It was mine to begin with, pal, so don't think you're being a good little Christian by giving alms to the poor," he popped open the cap and took one gulp.

The brown creature scooped up another granola then sat down, chewing the bar and staring at McCoy. Leonard grimaced at the act and approached the other rations. How long would he last with this thing leeching off of him? He definitely knew these rations wouldn't last. He counted the bars still on the ground. Five. He looked around at the bottles. Six. These things weren't big portions, either. He sighed, wondering if he could try to put the rations back in his black shirt. Slowly walking toward the scattered food, his peripherals focused on the bear while he strode around it, picking up the salvageable goods.

"Aren't you native to this planet? I wonder if you hunt for small critters. It would be a damn waste for me if you eat all I have and then go off and feed yourself silly after I die of starvation," McCoy grumbled as he tied the shirt back up. He slung the black fabric over his shoulder and glanced at the bear again. It was simply chewing on the silver wrapper at this point. Half of it was poking out of its mouth, as if he was just playfully chewing on it.

"I already told you, don't eat the wrapper," McCoy reached and scrubbed the bear's chin, and the bear released the wrapper. The doctor then placed the empty plastic back into his black shirt, "Well, now what?" he asked, looking around as he mindlessly petted the mammal. The giant creature reached over licked his face.

"Whoa please, not the face," McCoy chuckled nervously as the bear continued to lick him, "I'm no narcissist or anything, but I have no idea what you've put in that mouth of yours other than those granolas I've fed you, so if you please," the bear paused, but then dragged his tongue slowly across Leonard's face, "I'm starting to wonder if you actually understand me and do these things to piss me off."

McCoy watched as the bear hunched down, tilting his back toward the doctor. The man glanced curiously at him for a moment before realizing what he was doing, "You want to give me boost?" he chuckled, "Oh no, uh-uh. I am not doing that," the bear nudged him, trying to get him to climb him, and McCoy simply stepped back, "I wouldn't ride you even if you had a saddle, big guy."

Noting the doctor wasn't going to hop on, the bear stood back up and snapped his teeth at him, "You think snapping your teeth at me is gunna get me on your back?" The bear snorted and then leaned back down to allow Leonard to climb it, "Manners evade you, don't they?" he grumbled as he gave a try on climbing the bear. He tried not to tug too hard on the fur, but the creature didn't seem to make any indication that he was hurting him. Once the man settle on top of the bear, he began to scratch the top of his head, "Like a giant, teeth snapping, could-possible-eat-you-whole teddy bear."

Leonard gripped the bag in one arm and the fur on the bear with the other, leaning forward to make sure the rations wouldn't fall. As he seemed to relax, the mammal began to walk forward. The man gripped tightly on the fur under his hands, trying to find decent leverage. It slowly began to pick up speed, much to McCoy's fear, "Uh, what's the speed limit in these deserts?!" he called out, "I don't take kindly to much of any public transportation!"

He hoped this bear arrived to its destination soon. If not he would slaughter him after his nice brown coat gets soiled with the doctor's vomit.

[message sent]

Subj: My turn!

Hey Bones,

You usually send the messages first, but I guess since today yours is running a little late, I'll do you the favor.

...Okay, really I just want to talk about Kobayashi Maru. Selfish? Yes. Always. It was pretty bad this time. You guessed right again. The Klingons got me this time. Oh, and I don't mean to scare you (I do), but my CMO got killed halfway through the simulation. But the good news? I got further this time. My CMO sucked, 'd have survived. He's too... average. He follows the textbook too much. He doesn't think critically. I may switch him out. I'm thinking over all the paths as we speak. It's like a puzzle, Bones, I know you don't play chess or sudoku much, but think of it like reverse engineering a disease or figuring out a cure. You live for it. And I know what you are going to write before you even write it, "kid, let it go, it's unbeatable." Says who? Faculty? Admirals? That's because they didn't try hard enough. I assure you Bones, by the time you get back, that test will be DEFEATED!

Anyhow, how's that virus you mentioned going? Did you have to correct that snooty CMO again? Please tell me there have been nurse witnesses to any of your sass. That guy's ego is unnecessarily huge. I'm sure you've got a metaphor for it, too. Like, larger than saucers or something, right?

This is your future Captain speaking,

-James T. Kirk

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a/n: Oh mah gosh, Jim?! Haha, lord knows what direction that is going to head toward.