Leonard McCoy:
Considering that he's been married before, Leonard thought he might have a decent idea of what to expect when it came to entering into that state with Amelia. There's the honeymoon phase where nothing the other person does can get on your nerves and everything is perfect. Then little things start to creep in. Nothing important at first. You can ignore it because you're so completely in love. Then slightly bigger things. Then there's the first argument. It's been three weeks since they exchanged vows in front of their closest friends, and that monumental milestone is occurring most spectacularly. He has no idea how it started, or better yet, how to stop it.
"Amelia-"
"It's a simple issue, Leonard." What is the issue again? At this point, he's not certain.
"If it's so simple then why are we arguing?"
"Because-" She pinches the bridge of her nose. "-I feel that this is going to keep coming up if we don't sort it out right now." So, she's into the 'I feel' statements already. Not good.
"Well, I feel like it's not that big of a problem."
"You would say that."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we're not assigning blame here, but if we were, it would fall at your door."
"All I did was go over a few medical files-"
"At home! After dragging me away from my office prematurely!"
"It wasn't premature. It was twenty hundred hours. Two hours after you were supposed to be done for the night. And it's not at all the same thing."
"Agreed. I might be overzealous about my work-"
"Try 'obsessive'."
"Overzealous. But at least I leave it behind when I step out of my office. You bring yours with you."
"It only took an hour." She narrows her eyes at him. "Alright, two."
"And that's after I got back. How long were you working before?"
"Why does it matter? You weren't there to be bothered by it."
"It's the principle of the thing-"
"I feel like I saw you more before I married you, Amelia!"
"That's a bit extreme, don't you think?"
"What was it you always say about feelings?"
"There are no right or wrong feelings."
"Exactly. Practice what you preach."
"So now I'm a hypocrite."
"I never said that."
"No, but you implied it."
"I didn't imply-" This is getting him nowhere fast. "If you'd just be reasonable-"
"I could say the same thing to you."
"That's sophomoric."
"And now we're resorting to name-calling. Terrific."
"Amelia-"
"I'm sorry I said anything."
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Shut down. That's always your response. Just go all professional on me."
"I am a professional-"
"You're supposed to be my wife!" He hisses it at her to avoid yelling.
"I am your wife. This is who you married. I thought you knew that."
"Well, you married a doctor. I thought you were aware of that too."
"I am aware. I'll always have to share you with your patients. That's just part of it. But that's for designated hours. When I'm home-"
"So, it's whenever it's convenient for you."
"Fine. When we're both home, I'd like for you to actually be home. Not mentally in sickbay. Is that too much to ask?"
"Well, when I'm home, I'd like you to physically be home." There's a buzzing outside their shared quarters.
"That'll be Christine."
"So you've got time for her, but not for me?"
"This isn't an uncommon occurrence, Leonard. In the morning, I'm with Christine and Nyota while you're with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock. It's been that way for almost two years."
"Well, if you can make time in your busy schedule, I'd like you to slot me in for lunch."
"I'll make a note of it." It's not a perfect resolution, but it's a truce. Despite the fact that they're having a no holes barred argument, he has to say it. Otherwise, he'll regret it.
"I love you, Amelia."
"I love you too. We'll discuss this more later."
"Or we could just forget it ever happened."
"No. If we do that, it'll fester. Surely as a doctor, you know something about the care and keeping of an open wound." Is that what they are? Wounded? And if so, who made the first gouge? Amelia steps out the door, her face a perfect mask of passivity. Well, one thing's to her credit. She won't discuss their argument with her friends. With a sigh, he settles on the edge of the bed.
She's right. He brings work home with him. It's inevitable that it happens occasionally, but lately he's been doing it more often than is really necessary. But damn it, she's not blameless either. A little voice in his head whispers that he knew Amelia has to often be physically dragged away from work almost from the day they met, and it wasn't a dealbreaker, but right now, he's still too angry to acknowledge it.
So, what does he do? The simple answer is to go up to mess and meet with Jim and Spock. But Amelia will be there, and he doesn't trust himself not to go up to her and just try to sweep things under the rug if he sees her. That's not the kind of relationship he wants. But what he's got right now… well, frankly, it hurts. It hurts to know that there's something coming between them. It hurts to think that he's injured her, and it hurts where she's injured him.
With a groan, he stands. There's one place he can go to clear his head, and that's sickbay. It's ironic, because work is what they were fighting about in the first place and yet that's the shelter he runs to. Maybe Amelia has a point… but he'll hash that out with her later. For right now, it's time to start the day.
Amelia Fairchild:
The point of scheduling free hours during the workday is so that you won't have to bring work home with you. It's a trick Amelia has learned over the years. There's no way that Leonard could incorporate it because, apart from regularly scheduled visits, he never knows what he's going to get in sickbay. She really should've taken that into consideration earlier today when she decided to tear into him for bringing work home. She's more than familiar with the concept of 'not enough hours in the day', but… well… she misses him. Currently, she's got no one in her office and she's all caught up on her notes, so she has nothing to do but mull over their earlier disagreement.
It's common for newlyweds to have arguments. Even if you practically lived together before, there are minute changes to schedules, personal space, and finances. That puts a strain on every relationship. She can't recall off the top of her head what percentage of marriages fail within the first year, but it's not an insubstantial number. Does she believe they'll be one of them? No. She wouldn't have entered into the state of matrimony with him if she did. What they're feeling right now is simple growing pains, not a problem with the foundation of their relationship. That doesn't mean it hurts any less.
The buzzing coming from outside her office jerks her out of her ruminations. Leonard might bring work home with him, but she knows he doesn't bring home to work. Neither does she. The problem she's facing in her relationship can be further examined later. For now, she has a patient.
"Enter." There are a lot of people she expects to see in the course of a day, but the one standing in front of her couldn't possibly be more out of place. "Mr. Spock."
"Counselor."
"Please, come in." Hands clasped behind his back, he steps into her office, allowing the doors to slide closed behind him. "What can I do for you today?"
"Counselor, I've found myself in a rather tenuous position."
"Have a seat and I'll do my best to help you with it." Standing, she takes a seat opposite him (unsurprisingly, he's sitting close to the door). "What exactly is your rather tenuous position?"
"I seem to be experiencing emotions. That is your area of expertise, is it not?"
"It is, but I feel the need to remind you that I don't rid a person of emotions. I just help to understand and organize them."
"That would be an acceptable starting point."
"How long have you been experiencing emotions?"
"The first twinge of emotion occurred seventy-six hours, fifty-seven minutes, and thirty-two seconds ago."
"And what emotions are you experiencing, Mr. Spock?"
"Frustration with my coworkers, most recently at your husband." She swallows a laugh. That seems to be going around. "Loneliness. Even amongst my companions, I stand apart because of what I am and how I view the world around me. And fear."
"What is it that you fear?"
"I fear a future where I have to continue to exist in this state of unbalance." Alright. How does she do this? If he were human, she'd go into her standard list of questions, but he's not. Correction. He's half human. Maybe this is just that side of him clawing its way to the surface.
"I see. Has anything changed in your life lately?"
"Negative."
"It can be something minor, Mr. Spock. We're experiencing changes all the time, after all." He raises an eyebrow as if considering the validity of what she's said, finally telling her,
"My sleep schedule has been unusual for several nights."
"That could definitely be a factor. Are you getting less sleep than normal, or is it just disturbed sleep?"
"I have been experiencing vivid dreams."
"What kind of dreams?"
"Common occurrences. Three nights ago, I dreamed of Lieutenant Uhura discussing the virtues of pickled cucumbers on sandwiches consisting mostly of beef and cheese-"
"Do you mean hamburgers?"
"Affirmative." Huh. "Two nights ago, I dreamed of Dr. McCoy stubbing the fifth toe on his left foot on the corner of his desk and losing the nail." Okay, that's strange. "And last night, I dreamed of Dr. McCoy and you having an argument." Forget strange. That's disturbing.
"What were we arguing about in your dream?"
"He had brought home several medical files and was going over them after you arrived back at your quarters later than intended. He stated that he sees you less now than before your nuptials. An inaccurate statement on his part." She can feel herself frowning, but she's powerless to stop it.
"Mr. Spock, I believe the best course of action would be for you to report to sickbay immediately."
"That seems highly illogical."
"Just humor me." She starts towards the door, him following close behind.
Christine is in the ICU when they step into sickbay, and upon seeing Spock, color floods her cheeks. Normally, Amelia would try to do something to alleviate her discomfort, but right now she doesn't have time.
"Mr. Spock."
"Nurse Chapel."
"Nurse Chapel, I need to speak to Dr. McCoy immediately. Do you know where he is?"
"He's in his office." Without offering her thanks, she takes off in that direction, not bothering to buzz before entering. He's at his desk and looks up when she enters.
"Amelia. Is everything alright?"
"I'm afraid not. I think I'm going to have to cancel our lunch meeting." He frowns.
"I should've seen that coming. What is it, reports or an untimely session?"
"Neither. You're going to have to cancel as well."
"And why is that?"
"Because Mr. Spock needs to be examined. Immediately. He came to me because he's been experiencing emotional episodes."
"That's odd, but I don't see what it has to do with me."
"And vivid dreams."
"Again, I don't see why-"
"Damn it, Leonard. Will you just listen to me?"
"I'm listening. You're just not making sense."
"I am-" This isn't an argument she needs to be having right now. "He dreamed that Nyota likes pickles on her burgers."
"So do a lot of people."
"And that you lost a toenail." Good. That's got his attention.
"I don't think I mentioned that to anyone but you."
"It wouldn't matter if you did. He dreamed about it before it happened. Same with our argument this morning."
"He knew-"
"Down to the comment about seeing me more before we got married." And now, he's rushing past her into the ICU. She doesn't follow, hoping that distance will give them some privacy. Unfortunately, it's not meant to be. The walls are thin. She can hear Mr. Spock describing his symptoms and the instructions,
"If you'll climb up on the biobed, we'll start scanning." There's silence, and she assumes the medical scanner and tricorder are working, followed by, "It's not good, I'm afraid. Would you like someone to be with you while you hear it?"
"Negative, Doctor. I am solely responsible for decisions about my health. It would be illogical to involve anyone else."
"It's a tumor, Spock. The good news is it's nonmalignant. The bad news is it's attached to the manangala." She frowns. Her knowledge of physiology isn't as expansive as her husband's, but she knows the parts of the brain. That's not one of them, or at least, not in humans.
"The manangala, Doctor?" Christine asks.
"The part of the Vulcan brain responsible for their telepathic abilities."
"I see. What course of action would you suggest?"
"We can try radiation to shrink it, but I'm not hopeful about the success rate. Or we can operate, which would hold its own dangers. Either way, we have to do something because it's also pressing into medulla." That she recognizes. In other words, eventually Spock won't be able to breathe.
"Out of the two options, the most logical choice would be surgery. You have memories of reattaching my brain."
"Rapidly fading memories, but yes."
"And you are the creator of the technique of grafting neural tissues-"
"I am."
"Then I believe that I am in good hands, both figuratively and literally." Leonard sighs.
"Alright. Then report here tomorrow at zero eight hundred hours. No food or liquids after twenty hundred hours."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"Yeah, well, thank me after it's done, and I haven't turned you into a vegetable. And before you say it, it's just a colloquialism. I'm a doctor, not a magician." She presumes that Spock leaves sickbay because she hears the doors slide open and shut again, followed by a request of, "Nurse, get me everything we have on Vulcan physiology."
"Right away, Doctor." She approaches the door to his office just in time for it to slide open and him to stride in.
"Amelia-"
"I know. You're working through lunch."
"And probably late tonight." He offers her a wry smile. "A little ironic, considering what we were talking about this morning."
"The fact wasn't lost on me."
"Well, don't wait up tonight."
"Just make sure you do come home at some point." He hesitates. "Leonard, you can't operate if you're half asleep."
"You have a point."
"I often do." Hesitantly, she takes his hand. "It's going to be alright."
"Are you a fortune teller by chance?"
"No. I'm just a wife who knows her husband's capabilities."
"I hope you're right."
"My track record is excellent." Giving his hand a squeeze, she steps out the door. If he's going to be working, then she should probably bring him something down from mess.
Leonard McCoy
The anticipation of an operation is always worse than actually performing surgery, both for patients and doctors, or at least that's been Leonard's experience. As he scrubs in preparation for what's to come, his hands shake. He knows they'll be steady once he's in there, but for now, it's clear that he's nervous. Almost as clear as the fact that Chapel's hovering around their patient. A certain level of attentiveness is necessary, but Spock doesn't need her help pulling on his robes. His reflexes haven't been affected. Yet.
"You'll be alright, Mr. Spock. You know Dr. McCoy is good."
"Affirmative. I've been on his operating table before."
"You might have some hair loss after this, but we'll leave as much as we can. Don't worry."
"Vanity is a human emotion, as is worry. Both of which I hope to never experience again after the mass in my brain is removed."
"But you're experiencing them now?"
"Correct."
"I think you'll still look-" She stops short, blushing furiously.
"Look like what, Nurse?"
"Well… very attractive."
"Am I correct in assuming that you find me attractive?"
"Yes. Anyone who appreciates the male form would." Spock reaches forward and… Leonard frowns… takes Chapel's hand.
"I assure you the feeling is mutual." He half expects his head nurse to keel over at that, but she remains standing.
"Mr. Spock…"
"You are a very beautiful woman, Nurse Chapel."
"Christine."
"Christine." Alright, that's his cue to intervene. As he steps through the door, the couple breaks apart.
"Nurse, if you'll administer the hypospray, then we'll begin."
"Yes, Doctor." She presses the hypo against Spock's neck, and the Vulcan's eyes drift closed. Now for the hard part.
He's not sure how many hours pass before he's certain he's successfully extracted the entire tumor. He knew the composition and size of it, but it still takes him by surprise once he has it free. Closing is simple enough, and then it's just a matter of recovery. Until then, they won't know if he did more harm than good.
It takes a full hour for the hypospray to wear off, which is for the best because it gives him a chance to recover before having to face his patient, his head nurse, and his captain. Finally, Spock starts to come around and he asks him,
"Do you know your name, rank, and location?"
"Name: Spock. Rank: Commander. Location: Sickbay aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise." It's not a guarantee that there hasn't been damage, but it's a start. "Doctor, I wish to perform a mind meld to test my mental acuity."
"It should be alright. Just not on me. Once was enough." Jim sighs.
"I suppose I'll volunteer."
"Thank you, Captain. Some privacy would be appreciated." Motioning towards his office, he and Chapel file out. There's not much privacy thanks to the walls being so thin, and he can hear everything Spock is saying (concern for his friend, pride in his ship, desire for a woman he met on the last planet he visited). Finally, looking a little worse for wear, Jim emerges.
"I take it that went well."
"That's one word for it." His friend wipes sweat from his brow. "You did a good job, Bones. He's very much himself."
"Don't insult my patient." That provokes a chuckle. "Now I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Jim. He's still recovering."
"Alright. Let me know if there are any changes."
"I will." He waits until the captain has left before turning to Chapel. "Nurse, if you'll deliver the tumor to the lab for biopsy-"
"Yes, Doctor." She follows in Jim's footsteps, leaving him to gather himself. Spock's going to be okay. The operation was successful. He lets out a shaky breath. Now, to check on his patient.
Spock is sitting up in bed, hands folded in front of him, and when Leonard enters, he looks up.
"How are you feeling, Spock?"
"There is minor pain from the incision, but no great discomfort."
"Well, when the hypospray wears off, we can give you another. But more importantly, how are you feeling emotionally?"
"My emotional state is normal, Doctor."
"So, nothing?"
"Affirmative."
"Alright. Well, I need to test pupillary response, so if you'll just look into the light-" He holds up a flashlight, and sure enough, Spock's pupils dilate. "Good."
"Doctor, if I may ask you a question-"
"Ask away."
"What was behind your decision to pursue Counselor Fairchild?" That takes him aback. So much so that he can't help but laugh.
"That's what you're wondering about? Not incision care or the size of your tumor?"
"I presume you'll inform me of both. My question is the more pressing matter."
"Why did I get involved with Amelia?"
"Answer as logically as you can."
"That's going to be difficult because it wasn't a logical process. That came later. At first it was highly emotional."
"But you did reach logic eventually?"
"On some levels, yes." How does he explain love to someone who has such a narrow emotional scope? "I realized I was attracted to her, both physically and mentally. When it became clear that she felt the same way, I asked her if we could try to make each other happy, and she agreed." That's a shortened version of events, but he's not about to spell it out right now. Not without at least a finger of some sort of alcohol.
"And that is the basis of your relationship? Desire?"
"No. It was the reason I started pursuing her. Not why I continue to pursue her."
"There is still an aspect of pursuit in your relationship?"
"Yes, and there always should be. That is, if you want to keep the relationship alive."
"That would be the preferable outcome."
"Well, the reasons I pursue Amelia now are both similar and different. It used to be based entirely on what I felt. Now it's based also on what I know. I still find her desirable, but I don't think we could make each other happy. I know that we do. I know I'd miss her if she was gone, and I know that I'm a better man because of my relationship with her."
"I see. And you still know these things despite the argument that you were having?"
"I do. At the end of the day…" Should he say it? "…I love her more than I love the fight."
"That seems to be a logical conclusion."
"I'm glad you think so." The doors open and Chapel steps into sickbay. She keeps her head down as she makes her way towards the dispensary, but if she looked up, she would see Spock following her with his eyes. That makes him wonder…
"Are you feeling anything currently? Besides pain?"
"Fascination, perhaps." Spock still hasn't looked away. The doors slide shut behind Chapel, and he turns to his friend.
"Spock, is it safe to say that you're asking these questions because you're considering pursuing someone?"
"That would be a logical conclusion to draw."
"Do you want my advice?"
"It would be appreciated."
"You had a brief window where you were forced to confront your emotions. Keep what you felt in mind, but also consider what you know. What is the character of the person you'll be pursuing? Do you believe a relationship will be beneficial for you both? And do you think your intentions align? Answer those questions, and then make your decision."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"You're welcome. Tell me how it all works out." Speaking of how it all works out… he's got something that he needs to do. Not now, though. But as soon as the day ends, he'll set about it. Surgery is required to excise a mass that's impairing an organ from functioning, and while he might have performed it in his professional life, his personal life still needs to go under the knife.
Amelia Fairchild
Amelia's not surprised when she ends up going to the evening meal alone. Mr. Spock might be on the road to recovery, but he has still just experienced a major trauma. It makes sense for Leonard to stay with him despite the rest of his staff's capabilities. So, when she returns to their shared quarters, she's not expecting him to already be inside.
He's sitting on the bed and looks up when she steps through the doors. He looks weary, and everything in her wants to go to him. Her pride is still insisting that she was in the right, but that's not the most important thing right now. Taking a few steps in his direction, she sinks down next to him.
"Leonard, about yesterday-"
"Don't. Not until you give me a chance to say something."
"Alright. I'm listening." With a sigh, he turns to her.
"Amelia, you know that I love you." She nods. "I love you because you're my confidant. I love you because you accepted my daughter as yours. I love you because you challenge me. And I love you because you make me better." Reaching out, he takes her hand. "You're more important to me than my job. I'll always love that too, but it's not what I plan to wake up next to for the rest of my life. You are. So, if bringing work home with me is an issue, then I'll stop. It's not worth losing you." She swallows hard. "Now you can talk."
"You know that I love you too. You've shown me that I can trust you. You're my friend as well as my lover." That provokes a smirk. "You force me out of my comfort zone and into a better version of myself. And you're my family. I love my job just as much as you love yours, but I don't want to look back and know I chose it over you. So that's my decision. You come first." They sit in silence for a few moments, then-
"I should probably warn you that it won't be possible for me to always keep work at the office, but when I'm home, I'll make an effort to actually be home."
"I can extend a little understanding, as long as you can accept that there will be nights I still have to work late. However, I'll try to be there for you to come home to."
"I think that's an acceptable compromise."
"So do I."
"Then, in the name of drawing up a good faith treaty, can I ask you one more thing?"
"You just did."
"Amelia-"
"I'm sorry. Force of habit." Turning towards her, he asks,
"May I kiss you?"
"Always." They've done it hundreds if not thousands of times by now, but as his lips brush hers, for the first time in days, it feels as if she can breathe again. There will be other storms along the way, but they've weathered this one. There are a few tears in the sails and the ship has been battered, but it's still floating. Repairs will have to be made, but that's manageable. So long as they do it together.