So sorry for the wait! I was jumped by plotbunnies for other fanfics and got a bit sidetracked.
A Bitter Affair - Chapter Eight
"Wake up, Doctor." The voice of his past slowly pulled him out of his dream.
Spock woke to the unmistakable sound of a table being set downstairs. A few seconds of alertness sent the memories of last night to the front of his mind. Another few seconds were needed to dress and make himself as presentable as he could.
He descended the stairs with as much dignity as he could muster. Today, he had a choice between unacknowledged mate or slighted lover. He chose the latter and wrapped cold indifference around him as he entered the dining room.
McCoy's eyes were on him in a flash, then away, finding something to study in a plate he was laying on the table. The bond was still quiet, an odd sensation after the fire of last night.
"Greeting, Spock. Did you sleep well? How do you feel?" Theylor was by his side in an instant.
"I am Vulcan. I feel nothing," he said, sending a meaningful look in McCoy's direction. "My physical condition, however, is acceptable."
Theylor nodded, pleased, and then gestured to a space at the table. "Leonard has informed me that you do not consume meat. I have prepared your meal accordingly."
A small part of Spock was pleased to hear that McCoy cared enough to mention this to Theylor. Quickly, he resumed his air of injured pride and set to eating.
"Theylor, you know we appreciate your hospitality, but we are still trying to find a way back to our ship," McCoy said, glancing briefly in Spock's direction.
"Where do you hope to go to find help? Both the Order and the Bringers are aware of your presence here. They will be unwilling to help."
"Logical," Spock commented. "What, instead, do you suggest?"
"There is another group of people like me, those who have chosen to remain neutral in the conflict between the two. While we are alone here, I can direct you to their nearest city and put you in contact with a friend of mine. He has sufficient means to contact your ship."
"Then we shall proceed immediately," Spock said, returning to his breakfast.
They sat in an awkward silence that was punctuated only by the sound of chewing and the occasional scrape of a plate. McCoy wasn't eager to be alone with Spock after last night, but the faster they got back on the ship, the faster he would be safe within the confines of Sickbay.
He felt his control starting to slip and gave himself a mental slap. Maintaining "radio silence" with Spock was a draining endeavor. Though his will was strong, he was fighting decades of mental discipline. Thankfully, Spock was not pressing his end of the bond. If he were, McCoy's mind would buckle in a second.
Three hours later, the first sun had set. Between the two of them, Spock and McCoy were carrying enough food to last them a month, though Theylor said it was about a week's walk to the city of Hesper. Spock had memorized their route and they were ready to set off.
Theylor pulled McCoy aside and spoke to him in a mock whisper. "You and your t'hy'la...you are Lerato again?"
McCoy frowned. "Lerato?" He noticed Spock was very still.
Theylor sighed. "As close as can be described, it is a term that means essence. We use it to describe the very core of a person.
McCoy was very confused. "Oh, like a soul. Are Spock and I souls again? That doesn't make sense."
Theylor smiled sadly. "When you are, you will know." With that, he turned and left them.
With no notice, Spock set off towards the hills. Moving without thought, McCoy followed him.
"I believe Theylor meant to ask if we were of the same soul again," Spock said after a lengthy silence.
"Oh," was all McCoy could think to say. "Are we?"
From the back, it was harder than usual to read Spock's emotions, but McCoy could feel through the bond that he was nettled.
"You should be the one asking that question, Doctor, since you are the one who initiated intimate contact," Spock said, his tone chilly.
"Is that what this is about? Last night?"
Spock kept walking. McCoy shot out a hand to grasp Spock's shoulder, but he anticipated the movement through the bond and stepped just out of reach. The Vulcan turned, face perfectly stoic but eyes boiling. McCoy lost all ability to speak.
The two walked in silence for almost two hours, each buried in their own thoughts. Spock noticed it had failed to grow lighter and looked up. Heavy clouds were spreading over the sky.
McCoy saw the clouds and indulged in a childhood behavior he had learned growing up in Georgia.
He went and stood under a tree.
Spock noticed this with a raised eyebrow. "Doctor, you are aware that standing under a tree actually increases your chances of being struck by lightning?" His voice was almost lost in the growing wind.
"Only if it's an electrical storm, Spock! Do you see lightning?"
"Regardless, I feel I should warn you." Spock joined McCoy under the thick branches and was pleased to see that the wind was less bothersome here.
"Why warn me? A minute ago, I thought you would have wanted to kill me yourself," McCoy said in a low voice. Only Spock's hearing allowed him to catch the mumbled comment.
Spock sighed internally. "Doctor...Leonard...while I admit your behavior is most illogical, I certainly do not wish you dead."
McCoy looked up, a small smile on his face. "Really?"
"Vulcans are pacifists."
McCoy groaned until he saw Spock's face. The corners of his mouth were turned up ever so slightly.
"I guess we camp here until the storm passes," McCoy said, circling. "Of course, that would mean finding a dry spot to sit."
"There is no such spot. Therefore, there is only one logical conclusion," Spock said.
Slowly, McCoy turned to face him. "And that would be..."
Five minutes later...
"Where again did you learn to climb trees, Spock?"
"I suspect it is a predisposition. I did not learn. I simply know."
"Ah."
McCoy leaned back, resting his head on Spock's chest. It had taken some clever maneuvering, but Spock had managed to find a comfortable resting area. He has insisted that they use this time to rest, so at the moment, a rather awkward McCoy was laying diagonally across Spock's body.
"So...come here often?" McCoy said, soothed into placidity by the heavy rain.
"No."
He rolled his eyes. "It's a line, Spock."
"A line?"
"Yes. Humans are famous for their fantastically awful pickup lines."
Spock frowned. "What is the purpose of these lines?"
"Well, it lets you strike up conversation with someone you hope to get to know better."
"Perhaps it would be more effective to find an area of common study," Spock said.
"Well, you can't just walk up to someone and ask about the latest advances in microsurgery...oh...I guess you would."
They were silent for a while, but it was a comfortable silence. Spock tightened his grip on McCoy slightly.
"You should get some rest, Leonard."
"I'm not tired," he retorted.
"You should be."
"Why's that?"
"You have been...running through my mind all day."
McCoy laughed so hard, he thought they would both tumble out of the tree.
"Well, I believe such strenuous activity would fatigue you."
"Just stop there, Spock," McCoy chuckled as he closed his eyes.
Spock was quiet for a moment.
"Does this mean I have picked you up?"
Thanks for reading and again, apologies for the wait! As always, please review!