Spock did not have time for this. Every second wasted was painful to him, because it could be his friend's last second alive.
He was not one to daydream, nor to have his attention compromised during important meetings like this, but while the Romulans, the captain, and several higher ups in Starfleet conversed, the officials from Starfleet Command speaking via monitors from Earth, Spock was thinking about the I.S.S. Enterprise. While the away team from that ship had been under his care in his own universe, Spock had caught a glimpse of those people. They looked the same as the people he knew, but were totally different on the inside. He'd spent very little time close enough to them to learn much about them, but what did glean was disturbing.
And now, of course, he had a perfect example of the alternate universe under his care. The idea of being around him was detestable, but he knew better than to throw away such a valuable resource. While he expected the intruder to continue with his games, Spock could not learn anything about the other universe any other way.
In fact, he could extrapolate on the way of life on board the I.S.S. Enterprise by analyzing the intruder's personality. It was clear that the man was manipulative and sneaky, that he appeared to trust no one. Spock surmised that that could only mean that he had been constantly in danger in his natural habitat. For a moment Spock felt a twinge of something for him. Pity would be too strong a word, but he at least could imagine someone, other than himself, feeling a trace of compassion for him and his difficult past.
Further, Kirk had told him about the intruder's attempt to seduce him. That could either mean that man was used to sexual objectification as a normal practice on his ship, or that he would stoop to anything to get what he wanted. Either way, Spock felt disgusted, especially when he thought about when that McCoy had touched him, and then asked him about his personal relationship with his counterpart.
But that was an interesting problem; there could have been many reasons for the intruder to ask that, Spock knew, but it was in the way he was asking that interested him. Logic told him that the impostor McCoy was trying to pry personal information out of him in order to use it against him. Perhaps if he believed Spock held affections for his McCoy, the intruder would prey on that, much the way he had tried to sexually manipulate the captain.
It made sense, but it still didn't satisfy Spock. There was something else there, something in the urgency of his voice, the way he stared so intently, so much like his own...
"Mr. Spock," Kirk's harsh voice snapped him back to reality. The group was staring at him, most notably the young Captain Dorek, who was trying to hide a smile behind his hand and failing.
"I apologize, Captain," Spock mumbled, sitting up straighter in his chair. "I had remembered a problem with my computer back up drives, and must have become lost in my thoughts."
The admiral, or rather the image of him in a video monitor, was about to rebuke him, but Kirk interjected, "He's—we've been under a lot of strain lately, Admiral. I hadn't realized it myself." He smiled warmly, and the dignitary relaxed.
"We're just about done here anyway," he said, and Spock was grateful. Of course the matter of dealing with political refugees, if he could even believe that, was vital, but Spock honestly did not care. He was sure he knew what the discussion had been about, except it had taken far longer than it should have. There was a closing discussion which he listened to, but with half-attention.
The admirals had ordered the Romulans to be brought to Star Base Titus Alpha, a planet about four days away. In the meantime, Kirk was encouraged to learn as much as he could about them and their motives, while also making them feel comfortable and safe. According to Star Fleet, these passengers could become new citizens of the Federation, valuable assets indeed to a society that knew so little about one of their most dangerous of enemies.
Only security officers were armed on board, and they were trained to handle any threat. Spock should not have worried that the Romulans would take out some guards and thus arm themselves for the purpose of hijacking the ship, but he did. The idea was absurd, and every precaution against such a thing was being taken, and yet Spock could not trust these passengers. He was beginning to feel like the intruder.
No, it wasn't that. When he really thought about it, he was thinking of himself, his other self. McCoy had said that the Romulans had a significant influence on the Enterprise crew. While Kirk had described his counterpart as being "noble," the impostor had given Spock a different impression. Who would he believe, someone he knew to be telling the truth, but only had a first impression, or someone who would know, but who would also lie?
If anything McCoy had said was correct, Spock finally decided, then his McCoy was in serious trouble.
"You have to stop zoning out like that," Kirk once again interrupted his thoughts. "At least wait till you're alone to do it." He was only half-serious; his smile was small but warm, and he rested a hand on Spock's shoulder.
"Forgive me, Sir," he answered, clasping his hands behind his back. "What do you require of me, concerning the Romulans?"
"Don't worry about them," Kirk said, and they gazed at them, still sitting at the table, talking amongst themselves. Dorek looked up just in time to meet Spock's eyes and smiled. Spock looked away, jaw clenched. "I'm sure they'll want you for dinner at least once before we get to Titus, but other than that, I want you busy on getting Bones back."
Security officers were escorting the group out of the briefing room by now, and they were waiting in the passageway, still chatting without a care. Kirk and Spock followed them out.
"And keeping the intruder out of your way?" Spock added.
Kirk made a guilty face and laughed nervously. "If he bothers you that much, I can assign--"
"No," Spock almost snapped. "He cannot be trusted with anyone else."
"How's he adjusting?" Kirk asked, frowning.
"He isn't. But I have him restricted to Sick Bay, so that should limit any trouble he could cause."
"You think he's ready for--"
At that moment, Kirk paused, distracted by the sight of McCoy heading down the passageway towards them, with M'Benga nearly running behind. Kirk looked to Spock, eyes narrowed slightly. "I thought you said he was restricted to Sick Bay, Mr. Spock."
"I did give that order," Spock answered, careful to keep any emotion hidden. He did manage to quash a feeling of rage at the sight of the intruder so blatantly going against his orders and therefore making him look foolish in front of the captain by choosing to see McCoy as a nuisance, rather than a person. Considering that the man was not his friend, this was easy to do. Doctor M'Benga was incorrect; this situation could be handled as an exercise of logic, with the intruder as just another variable.
M'Benga looked to Spock with anxiety in his eyes. "Sir, I tried to talk him into staying, but he insisted he talk to you. I figured if I came with him, it'd--"
"I understand, Doctor," Spock dismissed. "I'll handle it from here."
While M'Benga headed off, McCoy was standing before Spock and Kirk with a smirk and his hands clasped behind his back in mock formality.
"Is there a problem, Captain?" Dorek came over to ask. His shipmates followed, as did the security officers, especially growing tense to see the Romulan approach the captain.
Kirk turned his attention to the young captain, who waited with a smile. "No, there's no problem, Captain Dorek." Kirk shot a look to Spock, who offered nothing in return. "If you would like to inspect your quarters?"
"Yes of course," Dorek answered pleasantly, and then looked to his companions. "Must we be...'escorted' everywhere we go, Captain?"
"I'm afraid so," Kirk answered. "Merely a formality, I assure you. You and your crew will be free to access the designated spaces at your will, however."
"Just with some of your men following us?" Dorek asked, a corner of his mouth lifting. Once again his sharp, green eyes flashed to Spock, even while he was talking to Kirk.
Kirk sighed, "Just until we reach the star base, Captain, but I don't want you to think of yourselves as prisoners. It's just a precaution..." he trailed off.
But Dorek smiled warmly. "Of course, Captain Kirk. We understand, and we are grateful for your kindness. Things would be far different if the tables were turned, and I appreciate that."
Kirk made a slight face, but he nodded cordially. "Thank you. Now if you would please inspect your quarters, I'll join you shortly."
Dorek nodded and the Romulans left with their escorts. Kirk snapped at McCoy, "Just what are you trying to pull?"
While the intruder's grin dropped at the outburst, he did not back down in any way. "I'm not trying to 'pull' anything," he snapped back.
"I told you to remain in Sick Bay," Spock said, and already knew that was pointless.
McCoy glared at him. "Dammit, Vulcan! Am I a prisoner?" Spock opened his mouth to answer, but McCoy barked, "If I were, I'd be in the brig, not going about my usual duties!"
"Is almost letting a man die under your care part of your 'usual duties'?" Kirk asked flatly.
When McCoy turned his shocked, baleful gaze at his friend, Spock felt a twinge of loss. He was very familiar with how the intruder looked right then, the same facial expression, the same gesture. Even the way his lips twitched as he got ready to argue back; it was like having his McCoy back in front of him, and he almost felt something for him.
"You were the one that put me back on duty status, Kirk!" McCoy snapped, and the doctor's use of the captain's last name was a concrete detail that brought Spock back to reality. Only those that were not familiar with the captain called him that. "You don't want any more complications than you already have with those devils, isn't that right? You don't need the crew wondering why their CMO is under lock and key!"
Kirk glared for a moment. "That is completely dependent on you. But if you're going to be disobeying orders from your superior officers--"
"It's an unfair order!" McCoy snapped, glaring at them both. "I'm not a prisoner, so why am I being treated like one? Am I one of them?" He gestured down the hall.
"You still pose as a potential security risk--" Kirk tried to explain. Spock tensed as he felt the captain's temper rise.
"Then why am I back on duty?" McCoy yelled. "Make up your mind, Kirk. Do you want me back as CMO, or not?"
"Technically you never were the CMO of this ship," Kirk said, eyes narrowing.
McCoy shook his head, giving Kirk a challenging, belligerent look. Spock held his hands tighter together behind his back, suppressing an urge to slap him. "And just how would you prove that? As far as anyone else is concerned, including the rest of your crew, I am the same Leonard McCoy as before. How much more me do I have to be? Same name, same age, same appearance... Why, even a DNA test would prove who I am! I'm very sorry there isn't any sort of test to determine which universe a man belongs to!"
McCoy gave them a chance to speak, but no one did for a moment. He went on, more confidence in his voice now, "I was negligent in my duties the other day, but that's in the past, and I've taken time off since then. Since I've been back on duty, nothing has gone wrong. You have no charges to bring against me, nothing at all that wouldn't get you laughed right out of any court martial."
"I've seen first hand how you people behave," Kirk growled. "The rest of Starfleet can see you as whomever they like, I know exactly what I'm dealing with."
"Captain," McCoy said softly. "James...Jim. I'm not like them. It's completely unfair to judge me, when you don't even...no, you do know me. If you gave me some kind of a chance, I'm sure you'll find your friend in me. I mean, how do you think I feel about all this? You're both trying to tell me I'm not me, as if my own past, which includes you two, by the way, doesn't mean anything."
Kirk shook his head in impatience after a moment of staring at McCoy. "I don't have time for philosophical puzzles."
"Then at least lift these insane restrictions! You can think what you want about me, I can't very well work if I feel like a prisoner!"
When Kirk took his fingers from his eyes, he glared hard at Spock. "I"m leaving this matter to Mr. Spock." He shot his eyes back to McCoy and took a step towards him. "You're his problem now. If he thinks it appropriate that you spend every second off duty in your quarters, then damn well so be it. If you give him a hint of trouble, you'll spend the rest of this trip in the brig and you'll be disembarking with the Romulans. Do I make myself clear?"
McCoy deflated, smaller than a few minutes ago. The sight gave Spock a transient thrill. He allowed himself to indulge in it a bit longer than he normally would. "You could so easily pretend I'm the right one, Jim," McCoy entreated. "I know you and my other self were close. In a way, you already know me, and I already know you." He reached out to touch Kirk's arm, but the captain stepped away, even angrier than before.
"If you know what's good for you," Kirk said in a low voice. "You'll keep yourself out of my way." He snapped to Spock, "You are relieved of your normal duties, Spock. Just keep him in and line and get our CMO back."
"Aye, Sir." Spock felt pride for his captain and the way he had handled this. The captain had not made his resentment a secret, but he had also not allowed himself to give in to his anger.
The doctor was gazing down the passageway, shaking slightly, though Spock could not tell what he was feeling. The human appeared distressed, but Spock was not interested as long as he did not appear a threat.
"I suppose you want to tear into me, too, huh?" McCoy grumbled, crossing his arms, avoiding looking at Spock.
"I would actually like to speak with you on a few matters," Spock said, starting to walk the other way down the hall slowly. He looked to McCoy, wordlessly encouraging him to follow.
"I wonder what about," McCoy growled. Spock found it curious that the man kept his head down, wondering if this were an act, a trap of some sort.
"We shall talk in my quarters," Spock said, then as an afterthought, added, "If that is acceptable to you?"
McCoy gave him an evil, side-ways look and snorted, "Why you asking me, half-breed? Since when do I have any choice about fuckin' anything?"
"I was merely trying to be considerate, Doctor. If there is anywhere else you'd feel comfortable--"
"Kiss my ass. As if I have a choice to even talk to you."
Spock didn't answer as they made their way to the upper decks, where his quarters were. It was slightly easier to resist arguing back with this McCoy than it was with his own, because he didn't care about the outcome. This man could believe whatever he wished, it wouldn't matter to Spock. He didn't know this McCoy personally, and didn't ever chose to.
When they got to his quarters, Spock lowered the temperature to one he felt would be comfortable for McCoy. Of course he didn't get any kind of thank you, just the doctor making himself comfortable on his bed, as before. It felt strange that the doctor seemed so at home in his quarters. His own McCoy had rarely visited his quarters, and when he did, they were short, impersonal visits.
Standing by the bed, Spock said neutrally, "Doctor, I would like to ask you some questions about your universe, if you are comfortable with that."
McCoy sneered and started fingering the intricate decorative whorls on the lamp on Spock's bedside table. "The fuck do you care if I'm comfortable or not."
"Doctor, I will not force you to answer me. This conversation is completely voluntary, completely at your own pace." Spock would not sink to his counterpart's level and force a mind meld on this man. He trusted he had enough experience around humans to tell, for the most part, if McCoy were lying. At least now that he had learned what to look for in this particular one.
McCoy stared at the designs on the lamp for a bit longer, then cast a sideways glance at Spock. His expression was lifeless and unreadable. "Well, I suppose a little chat is better than being locked up in Sick Bay," he snarled.
"We can discuss the terms of your restrictions later, Doctor," Spock assured.
"For God's sake, drop the 'doctor' nonsense," McCoy growled, sitting up now.
Spock tightened his lips and stared at the wall. "Very well, Leonard," he forced. It seemed like a slap in the face of his memory of his friend, but he conceded this small thing. "Were you trained on the transporter operations?"
The doctor's grin crept sneakily on his face. "You think you can bring him back with the transporter? O, if only it could be that simple, Spock."
"That is a logical starting point."
McCoy smirked to himself, regarding the Vulcan's sheets for a moment, fingers still tracing the whorls in the lamp. But then his face softened a bit. The two were quiet for a while, Spock waiting for any kind of answer, McCoy amusing himself with his thoughts, whatever they could have been. When he looked up, Spock felt his pulse quicken at the warmth in his gaze, how familiar it was. For a second, it was impossible to tell this one apart from his own.
"You miss him, don't you?" he asked softly.
Spock grit his teeth slightly, but otherwise suppressed everything. "I do," was all he could say, but even that was exposing himself. "He belongs here."
"And I don't," the intruder said with a soft grin. "But that's just the way it is, Spock. There is no way to cross into that other universe, and you know it."
"Just because you can conceive of no way, does not mean that I cannot," Spock said.
Drawing his knees up, McCoy made himself even more comfortable on the bed, tracking dirt on the blankets in the process. "You and Jim might hate me being here, but I tell ya, I could really get used to this place," he said softly, gazing around Spock's room. When Spock noticed McCoy's eyes begin to grow red, he walled himself up even further. It was safe to assume that he was trying to trick Spock into an emotional, and thus irrational, response.
"It's paradise here," McCoy went on, casting his pale blue eyes to Spock. Moisture gathered at the corners and he slowly stroked one knee. "You couldn't possibly imagine how it was for me over there. Even if you could find a way to get your friend back, it'd be pointless. I'd wake up every day wondering if it would be my last." He chuckled dryly and looked away. "Of course I could blame my own big mouth for that, I suppose. Not that any of it mattered. I'm surprised I've lasted this long."
This was angering Spock. He knew that this was just a cruel trick. This McCoy was merely exaggerating to scare him, to break down his defenses. Spock only felt more powerless as he put up with this cruel charade, hating the fact that he could not be sure what was the truth.
"I'm sure you had learned ways of adapting," he said, almost snarling.
McCoy looked at him, eyes flashing. He stared defiantly for a moment then hopped off the bed. "Why yes, Spock!" he said. "And you can sit there and judge me, both of you convinced I'm just some plague you have to take care of, but maybe if you really understood what my life was like--"
"You may have played on the sympathies of Nurse Chapel," Spock said with narrowed eyes. "But I know you were exaggerating."
"Ya?" McCoy sneered. "This look like an exaggeration?" Spock only crossed his arms tighter, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. And then McCoy lifted his shirt.
The skin of his torso was covered in scars and bruises, both old and new, and it evoked a sharp intake of breath from the Vulcan. Especially unnerving was a long, deep scar just passing the navel. He could see one end of it, but the other reached an inestimable distance beneath the doctor's shirt.
"Who did this to you?" he asked quietly, although he already knew.
"You did," McCoy hissed, shoving his shirt back down.
Spock let out a nervous sigh and tightened his grip on his hands behind his back. "Your universe's common method of discipline, I assume?"
"This one was," he smirked, lifting his shirt again to point at what appeared to be the scar of a puncture wound by his hip. "But the rest? Nothing more than...attitude adjustments, you could say."
There was the chance that those wounds could have been self inflicted, of course, but Spock abandoned that idea. Some of those scars were so deep, they would have required whoever made them to have had the patience and the will to deliberately cut so deep and for so long. This unstable man staring him down was not a paragon of willpower, Spock judged.
"He has only injured you in places that could be covered by clothing?" he asked, trying to focus on the mystery of this situation. But his mind was in a quiet, barely controlled turmoil; he didn't have to imagine his friend with such injuries, he could see it first hand, for himself.
McCoy laughed mirthlessly. "No, of course not. Both you and your captain's other selves have battered me almost unrecognizable plenty of times. Sometimes for nothing, sometimes for very good reasons." He smirked and looked away. Spock ached to touch him, just to get a glimpse of what his true emotions were. His face and tone of voice suggested conflicting truths, or so it seemed to Spock. "But I was usually allowed to heal any marks that would show. I've always wondered why."
Spock realized he was cutting off the circulation to his wrist, he was gripping it so hard. He crossed his arms to alleviate it, and as a subconscious way to close the other out. He could not stop searching for evidence of old injuries, healed or not, on McCoy's exposed skin. Only when he realized he was taking small steps backwards did he realize the intruder was getting closer to him. "Perhaps it would look unprofessional," he suggested.
McCoy laughed. "Maybe. Or maybe they didn't want anyone else to enjoy them. Only they got to see what they did to me. Why should some stranger get a free look?"
"Your world is vile," Spock hissed, feeling the bed post against his back.
"I didn't make the rules, Spock," McCoy whispered, now inches from the other. "Just trying to survive in that place, just like anyone else would." Spock tensed, chest heaving, as McCoy closed the distance between them with a hand just barely resting on his arm. McCoy kept his eyes down as he ran his hand up Spock's shoulder.
"I told you not to touch me," Spock growled under his breath
"I can tell you loved him, Spock," the doctor whispered, pressing himself against him now. McCoy's breath was warm on Spock's neck, his fingers lightly stroking his arm. Spock could only freeze up, afraid of what he'd do if he moved. "I know now that he must have loved you. That's not hard to imagine."
"You cannot manipulate me as you tried with the captain, Doctor," Spock said through gritted teeth.
He felt McCoy tense against him, tightening his fingers on his arm. For a while their chests pushed into each other as they breathed heavily. "I was trying to use him, yes. I'll admit that. But I'm not being fake with you, Spock," he growled. "I know you can feel it."
Spock could feel something intense, but he was blocking it out. Anger welled up inside him, and while he longed for this man to let go of him, he could not trust himself to unclasp his hands from behind his back. He knew he would either throttle the intruder or do something else just as damaging. He had never so much as embraced his own McCoy, so the idea of doing so with this one was an insult to his friend's memory. Or so he convinced himself.
"I have no reason to trust you, Doctor," he said. "Not with your background, not with the way you have been behaving since you've arrived here. I cannot believe that you would feel anything but hatred for your abuser, therefore it is illogical you would be so overcome with feeling for me. Either you are starved for any sort of physical affection, which you can easily procure from any other source, or you are whorishly trying to control me, the way you attempted with the captain."
Relief washed over him when McCoy finally let go, but he felt empty for a moment, as well. He had called upon his Vulcan training to effectively wall up him mind against any potential mental attacks McCoy would inflict, and protected himself against the tumultuous emotions from him. But when McCoy pulled away, Spock felt his presence fade from his mind as well. He did not realize that McCoy had influenced his mind as much as he had until he left it.
The doctor stood back by the opposite wall, arms crossed, his eyes dark and filling with moisture. Nothing spilled over, though. Spock could tell he was fighting to keep his emotions controlled. He seemed disproportionately upset that his seduction attempt had been thwarted, however.
"You make me almost miss my Spock," he snarled. "I think I'd take a beating over a block of ice like you."
Spock refused to allow his words to affect him. He could already feel the pull of emotions McCoy undoubtedly wanted him to succumb to, and it took effort to fight them off. It was hard enough to push his fear for his friend into a place where he could come back to when he had the chance.
However, it did seem to Spock that this man may have been offended by his blatant refusal, and that could cost him. He would miss out on a potential resource if this living artifact from the parallel universe were to close up just to spite him.
"Forgive me, Leonard," he said coldly. It was hard enough to force out the words, much less any emotion to them. They did seem to calm McCoy down, however. "You are correct that I miss my friend, and I am very anxious to locate him. I did not intend to hurt you." These statements were for the most part true; Spock did not care if he hurt the intruder or not, but it was true that hurting him had not been his intention. But while Spock's words were not lies, his efforts at conciliation were less than genuine.
McCoy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes dark and narrow. "I don't give a fuck what you or anyone else thinks about me," he snarled. "Even if you do find a way, you're not sending me back there."
"We may not have to, Doc—Leonard," Spock answered, again, not entirely truthful. He had not given the matter much thought. "We have found that two versions of the same entity can exist in the same universe."
"There's no law that says I have to go back. I'll kill you before I let you throw me back."
Spock paused a moment. "Leonard, at this point I am only concerned about retrieving my friend. We can discuss what will happen with you later, but I'm sure you can stay here if that is what you wish."
"We'll see about that," McCoy hissed and looked away. Spock noticed that he wasn't so much crossing his arms as he was holding himself, and began to realize that perhaps not all of this was an act. It still was not enough for Spock to waste any more thoughts on the intruder's feelings, though.
He took a few steps closer to the doctor, hoping that what he was about to ask would not be too soon. "Leonard, may I have your consent to a mind meld?"
McCoy grimaced and tightened up even further.
"I only wish to better understand your knowledge of your universe's technology. I will not intrude into your private thoughts, nor will I hurt you in any way." Spock held himself at a carefully calculated distance from McCoy: not too close as to intimidate him, but not too far as to appear as emotionally distant as he truly was. It sickened him how, just like the intruder, he was trying to manipulate someone, but he saw no other alternative.
"What if I say no?"
"Then I will not attempt one, nor will I ask you again."
Another pause, much longer this time. And then McCoy sneered at him, "Only if you do something for me."
Spock closed his eyes as his only show of frustration. He considered telling the human that he would not negotiate with him, but he could not afford such luxury. "What are your terms?"
"First of all, no mind melds," McCoy growled. "Bullshit it won't hurt. You're a Godamn liar, Vulcan. I know your kind and your tricks." He calmed down a bit after that outburst, a smirk creeping along his lips now. "No, we're doing this my way or not at all. You meld with me, you'll find out everything. I'll give you one piece of information for everything you give me."
Spock clenched his teeth and imagined how the captain would react to this. Illogically, irrational, but in a way that would preserve his dignity. "Very well," he said.
McCoy smiled, that flash of warmth that was so familiar to Spock lighting in his eyes for a teasing moment. "I do know a thing or two about the transporter. I can tell you about what I think your other self might be doing to your buddy right now, and I can tell you about Dorek and his lackeys."
"Why would that interest me?" Spock asked, although he was actually interested. How easy it was to fall into the habit of deception, he thought with shame.
McCoy grinned. "Let's just say that if he's anything like my Dorek, you're all in deep shit."
Spock paused. He would exchange the appropriate services for such information, but that could wait. "What are your requests?"
"Lift those damned restrictions," McCoy snapped. "Let me be free to come and go as I please, with no one following me."
Spock pursed his lips as he considered this, then nodded for McCoy to continue.
"You tell Kirk that you talked to me and decided I'm not so bad."
"I will not lie to the captain," Spock stated.
McCoy glared. "Then just tell him something good about me so he gives me a fucking chance."
Spock nodded. "Is there anything else?"
"Yes. Your word that you won't send me back if you find a way to get to that other universe," McCoy said.
Spock crossed his arms and took on a rather officious air. There was a bit of comfort knowing that this man's help could be bought, even though the idea disgusted him. "Your first request can actually be broken down into smaller ones," he said. "I will decide how much each fact you tell me is worth."
The doctor glared at him with indignation, and for a moment Spock felt it was deserved. "You'd make an excellent Orion trader," he growled, then sighed. "Who starts?"
"Are you trained in transporter operations?" Spock asked immediately.
McCoy nodded with a smug look. "Question number one, answered in the affirmative. What do I get for it?"
"That does not count, Doctor, as it was a preliminary question." He watched the intruder's lips twitch, but he did not argue. McCoy may have despised him for that small victory, but he needed to understand that Spock was the one controlling this, not him. "However, I will compensate you for comparing our transporter room with your own. Next question. Why did you and the McCoy of this universe remain where you were when everyone else returned?"
The bafflement on McCoy's face appeared genuine. With the hope of reward for an answer, though, Spock could at least count on speculation that could be helpful. "I...I don't know," he said.
"What are your suspicions?" Spock pressed, taking a seat on the bed. "Please sit down."
McCoy eyed him, but obeyed, sitting up by the pillow, far from Spock. He looked far less comfortable than when he'd been standing. "Maybe some sort of accident that only affected me and him? It was a freak accident that switched us in the first place."
"The captain told me that it was my counterpart who beamed my shipmates back. Would he have had the knowledge to control who does and does not return?"
Scratching his nape, McCoy looked to the side and chewed his lip. Spock could not tell if he were honestly thinking or merely deciding how much to reveal.
"I assure you, honesty will be rewarded, Doctor."
McCoy gave him a cryptic look and then said, "If he was the one at the controls, then yes, it makes sense that he would have deliberately done something to keep me here."
"Do you know for certain if he would have such knowledge?"
"I guess so, if he did it, right?" McCoy snapped.
"He may have taken advantage in the transporter's altered state, if there had been one, but that does not imply he specifically knew how to access a parallel universe."
McCoy shook his head. "Whatever you say," he growled.
So far Spock was at the painfully tedious stage of figuring out the right questions to ask. He noticed McCoy was getting tired, or at least weary of this discussion. Good; it would take more effort to concoct a lie than to supply the truth. "Why would he have done this?"
"You got me," McCoy replied dismissively, throwing a hand back to pick at the paint on the bulkhead.
"What do you suppose?"
"I said I don't know! He hated my guts!"
"Then why would he kidnap the one of this universe? Judging from what I've learned of yours, he could simply have killed you." Spock reminded himself to be careful not to overly excite this man, but that seemed inevitable.
For a while McCoy stared off at the door with his jaw tight, closed off from Spock. Then he turned to glare at him. "Now you really have to answer a question from me. I can't tell you anything about his motives if I don't know yours." He sat up, leaning over his crossed legs. "How close were you? Don't you keep a fuckin' thing from me, Vulcan."
That was a logical question, Spock realized. He also realized that he would be forced to gamble if he hoped to gain anything further from the intruder. "I acknowledge there was a mutual attraction between us, but it was never acted upon," he said. "We remained as friends."
For a while the doctor studied him, and Spock felt like squirming. "If you did get to the other universe, and you saw your other self hurting him, what would you do?"
Spock did not hesitate. "I'd kill him."
A soft smile spread on his face as McCoy leaned back against the head board. "There's your answer, then. He wanted a way to have me, without it actually being me." McCoy dabbed his eyes in mock emotion and joked, "He does care! How touching."
The proposition that his other self would have love for his friend did not make him feel any better for some reason. "Then he is safe?"
McCoy raised an eyebrow. "If he knows how to keep his mouth shut, then sure. Maybe. I mean, I'm only going off the assumption that you and my Spock think alike. If he loves him as much as you do, then Hell, maybe he does have a chance."
"Would he be in any danger from other members of the crew?" Spock prodded barely a second after McCoy's last word.
"Now wait a minute," McCoy snarled. "You gonna pay me back for any of that, or not?"
"Yes, of course," Spock said, sitting up straighter. "I will inform Nurse Chapel and Doctor M'Benga that you no longer need to be escorted in and out of Sick Bay during your shift. You are free to move about the ship, but for no longer than one hour at at time, no more often than twice in one shift. After your shift, you are confined to Sick Bay as normal."
"What kind of cheat is that?" McCoy burst, face reddening. "You Godamn cheap, half-breed son of a bitch! One hour?"
"Doctor, the information you supplied me were merely speculations, not facts," Spock said, folding his hands in his lap. "I am being very generous to give you anything at all for them." This entire business was beneath him in every way, but Spock did enjoy a certain thrill at how it was turning out. McCoy surely did not expect to be played at his own game.
"Cheap bastard."
"If you would like something of more substance, perhaps you will tell me what is so important about the Romulan Dorek," Spock said, with just the barest trace of smugness.
"What'll you give me for it?" McCoy sneered.
"That will depend on how valuable I find your information."
They locked eyes for a moment, McCoy's eyes narrowed into slits while Spock gazed emotionlessly back. "In my universe, Admiral Dorek's a part of the Tal Shiar."
Spock felt a muscle in his jaw twitch, but otherwise quelled any other reaction, reminding himself that this applied to the alternate Dorek, not necessarily the one on board ship right now. "And?"
"And? What else is there? He's a sneaky, deceitful bastard who'll slit your throat if you get too close. Politically, I mean. He'd never get his own hands dirty and do anything himself."
"This does not mean that he is that way in this universe," Spock stated.
"Believe it not, Spock, people aren't that different over there. I don't care how wonderful and safe this place supposedly is, I wouldn't trust Dorek as far as I could throw him." McCoy went silent then, obviously waiting on Spock.
And the Vulcan took his time to answer, standing up as he did so to signal they were finished with this topic. "I was expecting something more significant, but I will inform the captain. I will also tell him that you were helpful to me."
McCoy reluctantly got off the bed and hung by the desk, away from Spock.
"If you are not too weary, would you care to go over the transporter details with me?" Spock offered. When McCoy nodded, they went down to the transporter room. Spock kept a close eye on McCoy the entire way, gently nudging him on the shoulder when he walked too slowly. The human looked exhausted, and avoided his eyes.
Spock relieved an officer at the transporter room and they went to the controls. McCoy sighed as he inspected the controls, asking about each button or toggle in a tired voice. Finally, after nearly ten minutes, McCoy gave him a blank expression and said, "Besides the placement of everything, it's exactly the same."
"Where's the primary energizer, on yours, I mean?"
"Right here," McCoy said with a tired, lazy point close to where it was on theirs.
"So Spock would have been standing in this spot to energize?"
McCoy's growing impatience was obvious, as if he were really trying to remain awake enough to answer. "Yes."
"What controls are within reach?" Spock asked, while carefully studying the placement of the controls.
"About the same as here, you know, the gain levels and intensity amplification toggles."
"You said the placement of the controls was different," Spock asked sharply.
McCoy just about threw up his hands and gave up at that point. "It's not exactly the fuckin' same, but it might as well be!" he snapped. "What does it matter? He would have had to have programmed the entire machine before he could--"
"But he would not have had the time to program the transporter if the captain and the others were already waiting at the pads."
"I don't fuckin' know, Spock!" McCoy yelled, slamming a fist on the surface of the transporter, narrowly missing a switch. "I wasn't there, was I? I didn't see what he did! I have no idea what he did or how. You're the Godamn scientist, you figure it out!"
Spock raised an eyebrow and turned his attention to the transporter for a while, giving McCoy enough time to cool down a bit. "You may retire to your quarters now, Doctor," he said. "We will negotiate further tomorrow morning."
The human relaxed. "Gonna follow me and make sure I don't try to sneak off?" he sneered.
"You have earned the freedom to be alone for tonight, Doctor," Spock said. "Please get some rest."
When McCoy left, Spock was overcome with a vague dread. He worried that the intruder would betray his trust somehow, although he could not imagine any logical reason for him to sabotage anything. He wasn't sure what he was feeling exactly, especially since he was trying to replace such pointless emotions with a careful study of the transporter's controls, but no matter how hard he tried to concentrate, he could not get him out of his head.