Disclaimers: I don't own the Star Trek franchise or any references made.

A/N: It should be known that Spock actually speaks Vulcan throughout his whole adventure (especially when he's in the village), and when he asked McCoy about his sehlat, it had been in his native language. He quickly realized that McCoy speaks standard and switches to that, but prior, he had been speaking in Vulcan. Hence the dialogue in the following dream sequence.

Chapter 6: Logos Meets Pathos

"Vulcan," the CMO stated, handing McCoy a PADD, "sounds like a place of my intellectual level."

Leonard snorted, taking the clipboard and sifting through the information. He paused at one of the typed words on the document; you've got to be kidding me.

"You spelled 'Neurology' wrong," he commented dryly.

"Oh you would know," The surgeon scoffed, snatching the PADD and glancing at the spelling error, "I don't suppose you know HALF of what I do on neurology," he lowered his voice scornfully, "Ensigns."

The Georgians eyebrows rose, his voice a deadly calm, "Lieutenant, not ensign. And are you questioning my knowledge of Neurology, sir?" He noted that some of the nurses started walking slower to watch the conversation. Honestly, they could stand there all day if they wanted. McCoy had a whole journal ready to publish over neurology, and he was ready to snip each and every comment this older man had to theorize over the topic.

The CMO gave him a condescending glance, "Patience was never something you mastered in the Academy, was it, McCoy? Perhaps it's a good thing we aren't docking on Vulcan. You would likely offend the entire planet within the first five minutes with your drama and inexperience."

McCoy stepped closer to the CMO his voice still level, but getting thicker with scorn after each word, "Perhaps I didn't master patience, but if you'd like I could very well show you my experience in neurology when I put your brain back together after I clock it out of your skull."

The CMO's nose flared, "After I'm done with my incident report over you, I will see to it that you NEVER get back on a Starfleet ship-"

Suddenly, the ship's alarms when off with a red alert.

Raja, Gary and Jordan stood in front of him in the shuttle. No one seemed to be driving, and although it didn't make sense, McCoy really didn't pay much mind to it.

Gary chuckled, "Fiery spirit."

Jordan giggled at the comment, "Good one."

Raja curled McCoy's hand over the paper, "Vulcan. You will like planet, doctor,"

And just like that, he was hovering all over again above the Vulcan sky, without a parachute, yet falling slowly until he stumbled against the dunes.

He stood up only to lean against his large bear friend, feeling the fur against his cheek. Each intake and exhale of his breath was in rhythm with his mantra.

Stop bleeding. Keep breathing. Stop bleeding. Keep breathing.

The air started to thicken with grains of sand, and the bear disappeared from his hands like spilling sand. His sensitive skin aware as the grains around him pelted him roughly, but his eyes seemed to see everything crystal clear. The thunder began roaring deafening loud as the storm swirled, and transformed into a large bear with long fangs. It grew larger and larger, until its wide jaws encompassed Leonard. His scream tried to tear out of his throat, but it was clogged with all the sand entering his mouth. He couldn't sense what was up or down, and the heat kept rising and rising until a man with pointed ears, a Vulcan, knelt before him. He pulled the hoodie over his head, calming the chaos around him. The sand all paused in place; with grains hovering around them as the alien place a hand where his neck and shoulder met and questioned him in a calm voice:

*"Ra ma du ovsoh tor t'nash-veh sehlat?"

There was no hesitation to the action of nerve pinching the stranger; Spock had assumed that the short height was that of a young Vulcan. That would have been quite simple to compromise with. But it was an adult who had turned to him with electric blue eyes. And, without knowledge of whether or not this species would be hostile or passive, Spock had wasted no time to find out. It was best, therefore, to render him unconscious.

He glanced at his wounded sehlat; I-Chaya was still bleeding. He threw a quick glanced at the small being, and then pulled out the blanket he used to sit on the ground to eat. He quickly brought out extra clothes and pressed them against his sehlat's wound and tied the blanket snuggly over it. Was that what this being was attempting to do before he arrive? Stop the bleeding? He looked over his friend for any more serious wounds, but it seemed that the large gash was the only one needed tending to.

He walked over the well to retrieve water, and saw that some of the stones framing the well had been broken off. Something strong must have done this, perhaps his sehlat? The Vulcan unhooked the bucket of water and feed the liquid to I-Chaya. The animal growled, shifting to get up.

"Stay, I-Chaya," Spock ordered. His sehlat refused to listen, and Spock placed his hand firmly on I-Chaya's back, "You will harm yourself if you continue to move as such."

Although I-Chaya was weakened, it did not mean he was weaker than Spock. The Vulcan could not stop him as he rotated to face the unconscious being. He nudged him with his head, removing the hood from his face in the process, and licked his face a few times before dragging the stranger closer to himself. He then laid back down and placed his head next to him. Assessing that his sehlat wished to protect this stranger, Spock decided to investigate the being. He crouched down to look at the now un-hooded figure.

Spock vaguely noted that the alien was wearing female robes, but appeared to be male. He was fairly small in stature. He could make out unruly light brown hair, and tanned skin. A strange tint of pink flush dusted his cheeks, and a sheen of sweat dripped down his face. He looked entirely uncomfortable, murmuring incoherently in discomfort. This species was not built for the heat. The Vulcan noted that the sun was beginning to hit the stranger directly in the face, so he pulled the hood of his clothes over his head to shield his sensitive skin. After running through his knowledge of various external species, he finally concluded Terran. The question now lay in what a Terran was doing in the middle of Vulcan.

He recalled those striking blue eyes once again. It was a feature Spock wanted to even say casted an illusion of his eyes glowing as the sunrise light flickered over them. A tedious feature to have in a strongly lit planet, but he couldn't help but bring back that memory few times while he thought over why the being could be doing here. It was such a vivid and vibrant feature that he could only recall in textbooks. His own mother had hazel eyes, but this was a pure blue color.

His eyes then traced back to the blood stained clothes next to I-Chaya; the one the Terran had been using to help his sehlat. He pulled up a light blue shirt with a silver badge on it. Starfleet, and judging by the blue, he was a science officer. He frowned, this man was either lost, or impersonating an officer. His theory leaned more closely toward the former, since his sehlat didn't seem to be aggressive toward the stranger. He pet his sehlat as he looked around, finding a trail of I-Chaya's blood leading to one of the adobe homes. Curiosity got the best of him as he stopped stroking his pet's fur and walked in to investigate. The entry seemed broken. The square entryway warped as though something large had shoved through quickly. As he walked through, he paused at the strong stench of blood.

The second sehlat. The sight was very gruesome, and it was clear that this was a dead corpse. Spock knew that there was no way that I-Chaya could have won this battle on his own. Spock would often treat his friend to hunting games, but it was an honest truth that I-Chaya would in no way be able to win a fight with a wild sehlat. He was too domestic. As he looked over the corpse, he could see that the bear was stuck in a hallway. Something led it to be stuck in this staircase. His eyes darted toward the blue-eyed Terran. I-Chaya kept licking him, and the man groaned, dramatically arching and stretching, and finally waking up from his slumber. Spock stood at the entrance of the adobe home, tracking each and every movement of the Terran carefully. Perhaps even with a hint of fascination.

"What just happened?" McCoy murmured to himself, unaware of the gaze on him. He was looking up at an orange sky, with a confused glare, before his eyes shot open and he sat up quickly, wobbling over the sudden strain on his body, "You- bear-!" he stuttered at the bear, and he ran his hands across the bear. They finally landed on the makeshift bandage Spock made, "I didn't do that…" he whispered distantly before surveying the area. His eyes finally landed on the Vulcan, and he bristled. He straightened himself up; glaring up at him, but said nothing. If there is any fear in this man, Spock thought, he is hiding it quite well.

The Vulcan cocked his head, the man had spoken Standard. Therefore, he decided question him in kind, "Who are you?" he asked McCoy calmly.

"'Who are you?'" The male mimicked sarcastically, "Who are YOU, is the question," he began to muttered darkly under his breath as his hand quickly moved to the spot Spock had pinched, "I've just about had with this planet," He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the Vulcan, "What did you do to me? I was trying to help this here bear, and I get a greeting in the form of a- a-"

"Nerve pinch," Spock inputted.

The glare sharpened, "Nerve pinch. If we want to be fair, I should be asking for YOUR intentions," he leaned back to the bear, placing a protective arm on his head.

His eyes darted between those clear blue eyes before they went to the hand on I-Chaya, "If you wish to know my reason to appease your worries, then so be it. That is my sehlat," Spock stated, pointing at the bear.

McCoy squinted his eyes at the Vulcan, "Your who's it what's it?"

"My pet is not a 'who's-it-what's-it'. Nor is he a 'bear', as you had mentioned earlier. He is a sehlat. If you do not return him, I will be forced to call upon authorities."

McCoy grimaced, "I didn't steal him. He appeared out of nowhere and decided to kidnap ME. And as a matter of fact, this fella here needs medical attention," he turned to look over the bear. He didn't know exactly how long the bear was bandaged, but the bleeding seemed to be under more control. He scratched the creature behind the ears, happy to see his improvement. His smile disappeared, however, when he turned back to the alien in front of him, "that, and he owes me a favor or two for eating almost all the rations I've been surviving on."

Spock stared at I-Chaya for a moment, "His name is I-Chaya."

At the sound of his name, the bear shifted his head at Spock. Well, no denying that it's his pet, McCoy realized. It explained why the bear-er- slahat? sahlaht? sehlat- seemed comfortable with humanoids. The Vulcan gestured for his pet to come to him, and he slowly made his way toward the Vulcan. There was a pinch of hurt in McCoy to watch the mammal walk away from him. It was a short lived friendship, but dammit that furry pal was a good friend. The bear lowered himself down next to the Vulcan, and the being looked over the bandage on the creature.

He then turned back to McCoy, "Now, I will ask you once again. Who are you?"

Realizing that the man was had no intention to hurt him, McCoy felt himself relax, but his dehydration and hunger was all the more prominent. He in inhaled and exhaled deeply, vaguely realizing that he was a little out of breath, "my name is Leonard McCoy and I'm a Starfleet officer."

The Vulcan nodded, "My name is Spock."

"Just Spock?"

"You would be unable to pronounce the rest."

"Yet it's common courtesy to say it."

"It is pointless if the person is unable to relay it back."

"Look, at least give me a try."

"S'chn T'gai Spock."

"Spock it is, then."

Spock found himself attempting to retain a sigh. He looked over the Terran again, "I must inform you that you are wearing female attire."

Leonard slowly looked down at his robes, and looked up at the Vulcan with a concerned expression, "You aren't serious."

I-Chaya, as though mocking him, made a snorting noise, and McCoy felt obligated to explain, "I found it in the adobe homes back there."

"You were not aware, I understand," Spock responded. Nothing he owned was the size of this Terran, "I highly doubt any adult male attire would have fit you."

Leonard rolled his eyes, "Look, I'm just trying survive a desert. I'm a Terran species. I can't just wear a dinky uniform and be expected to survive these conditions. Hell, my skin is peeling under these thick robes as we speak. Just recently changed into them when, uh, I-Chaya was it? Until he took me to this abandoned settlement. Then another one of those huge creatures came and attacked us, and well, the rest is-" He instantly froze, and then looked around frantically, "Where is my old uniform?"

The doctor found the blood stained pants of his uniform near him and he crouched down to reached into the pockets. The Vulcan watched him with curiosity as he saw the Terran pull out a folded piece of paper in it and sighed in relief. His whole posture slouched as he placed his forearm on the ground; his head ducked down as he steadied himself. He then turned to the Vulcan, raising a brow, void of any malice, "Do you mind if I pause this conversation for some water? I'm pretty famished."

The Vulcan nodded, watching as the man stood up with some difficulty, walking carefully toward the well, "Where the hell is the bucket?" he asked out loud, looking around the well, even peering inside of it, "damn wild bear, knocking over everything."

"Had proof around you not spoken for your innocence, I would not have believed you to be in Starfleet," The Vulcan stated as he picked up the bucket that he had unlatched earlier and walked over to the Terran. He handed over the bucket to the man and he gave a quick and tired nod, whispering, "thank you," then latched it to the hook with shaky hands. Before the Vulcan could address his terms on gratitude, the man spoke, "Really? And why might that be?"

"Your crude nature and dialogue speaks nothing of the military precision that is required for Starfleet regulation," Spock stated, "I would have thought that you may have stolen the uniform otherwise."

McCoy paused in his action to turn to the Vulcan, "Crude? Dialogue? Why, Mister Spock, if you MUST know, I crash landed onto this planet unexpectedly as a sole survivor, was kidnapped by a bea- sehlat, almost attacked by another one, and then- get this- I'm 'nerve pinched' by a Vulcan. So pardon me, pointy, for not being the most polite of folks. And all things considered, neither have you been."

"Pointy?" Spock inquired, "was that intended to be derogatory?" The Vulcan had assumed they were on more passive terms, but it seemed he had enraged the doctor for his honest commentary. Now the Terran was blatantly insulting him. What an illogical being.

The man did not reply, as he had already focused his attention to retrieve the water. Spock watched the trembling hands slowly began to steady. His eyes glanced at the Terran as he seemed to slow his breath; his eyes in full concentration to this single task. Perhaps he is in some manner disciplined. Nonetheless, it seemed like the man already weak enough.

"You require assistance," the Vulcan stated, stepping closer to the Terran.

"No, I do not," McCoy punctuated, throwing a glance at the Vulcan before returning back to his task, "I'm a doctor, not a damsel in distress. I can get my own water. And stop hovering over me like I'm some invalid."

Spock took one step back. He was very accustomed to condescending attitudes, especially among other Vulcans, but they were always meticulously calculated. They were casual snips at him that could very easily be disguised as logical statements. This man, however, made no effort such cloak in his comments, as he made no restrain to keep any of his thoughts to himself. He was not entirely sure as to whether or not he preferred it.

"It seems illogical to deny help if it would be more efficient to obtain water," The Vulcan reasoned.

"And if I can retrieve it myself, there no logic in asking for help," McCoy countered.

"Inefficiency in action is illogical, it is not simply about the ability to execute it," Spock retorted.

The Terran inhaled deeply before speaking, "Look, mister Spock, it's enough that I'm getting water," he gave a tight smile, awaiting for the Vulcan to continue the argument. To Leonard's relief, he did not.

"Medical track then. What do you specialize in?" the Vulcan instead questioned, watching the blue-eyed man retrieve water in a very slow and calculated manner.

McCoy didn't answer as he rose the bucket straight to his mouth. He started sipping at first, before he began to chug the water greedily. Spock watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he drank the water. Leonard closed his eyes, relishing at the taste of water in his mouth before finally pausing to take a deep breath, smiling freely.

"Surgeon," the man replied, turning to Spock with a carefree smile. Had he not just insulted the Vulcan? Or was he no longer mad at him? His eyes darted down as the man licked his lips, "a Lieutenant, but I'd rather be referred to as a doctor."

"Very well, doctor," Spock replied. McCoy furrowed his eyes in confusion, "Did you just-? No, my name is Leonard; I meant that in the sense of my profession."

Spock cocked his head, "Are you not addressed as 'doctor' in your profession?"

"Yes, but I just gave you my-," McCoy paused in thought, "…are you mocking me?"

"Of course not, doctor, I am Vulcan. We do not engage in such baseless actions."

"Well, it sounded-" Leonard's dialogue was interrupted by the sound of his stomach grumbling loudly. The noise even had I-Chaya perk up from where he was laying down. Leonard's hand quickly went to gripping his stomach as he eyed the surprised Vulcan. He gave an apologetic smile, "Pardon the involuntary action. Hungry, is all," McCoy he gave Vulcan a sheepish look, "you, uh, wouldn't happen to be carrying something to eat on you, now would you?"

[message sent]

Subj: EXCUSE ME

Bones! Jesus man, are going through a biological warfare back there?! I know you've told me that I might get a taste of my own medicine with my one-night stands but this is below the belt. And not in the fun way! Look, I just want to make sure you're okay. Things not going well? Don't go off in a depressed tangent without me, either, alright? You usually message me twice a day, at least. If you need to talk, video chat with me. Don't go off drinking yourself into a stupor. Send me a strongly worded message (not that you normally don't always). There's still some daylight left, so I'll give you until midnight in Standard time.

This is your future Captain speaking,

-James Ti-FURIOUS Kirk

p.s. if you REALLY want to drink we can do a video chat and drink together. Shots every time you mention you're a doctor. Shots every time you say 'dead'. Shots every time you say any conjugation of 'hypo'. Oh, and shots every time I mention 'Captain'! (that's two shots already)

Just message me, Bones.

.

.

.

A/N:*Ra ma du ovsoh tor t'nash-veh sehlat? - What have you done to my sehlat?

I know, I know. In AOS, Jim is the one that calls Spock pointy. But I don't think that Kirk in TOS would ever call Spock that unless, of course, we get a situation like 'This Side of Paradise', where he insults him for the sake of making him snap out of his delirious state. And get that; in TOS, Spock holds a comment like 'unfeeling computer' from Bones like an everyday deal, but when Jim does it, Spock really takes it to heart. Which really shows how their dynamic really works. Jim usually doesn't make jabs unless it's something like 'your almost human!', and if he does, Kirk usually does it in a way that never necessarily insults his culture, but rather playful insinuates his human one. He rarely ever places Spock's race into question, so as it may be normal in AOS for a situation like that, (I'm not really offended by it if it is like this in AOS, it's an alternate universe which means things may play through drastically different,) I don't really see it happening in TOS. Hence, 'pointy' is reserved for McCoy.

Anyhow! The two encounter! I had suuuuch a hard time writing and re-writing this piece. I wanted to have a realistic manner of how they encounter, and I seemed to veer more towards Spock's POV, but I assure you, next chapter will be mainly in McCoy's POV.