Title: Drink One For Me (3/5)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: In the past, Leonard has been more than willing to attend a Spring Fling or two as his captain’s wing man. But when Spock starts tagging along, Leonard realizes he may have been assuming some things he shouldn’t have.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2
Or read at AO3

Part Two

Leonard watches his captain pace the length of the balcony. “If you say ‘why didn’t you tell me sooner, Bones’, I’m going to restrict your meal card to spinach leaves and protein cubes for the next six months.”

Jim slants a glance at him. “I won’t say it.”

“Good,” responds the doctor. To Spock, he asks, “Can we get a hold of the guest list? I want to know who, exactly, has it out for me.”

Kirk executes a sharp turnabout. His “I want to know that too” sounds a lot more menacing than it should.

Leonard lifts a hand and, as if drawn by an invisible thread, Kirk drifts closer to him. Earnest, he says, “Let’s not go roaring in without a solid plan,” and looks between his two friends. “We also should strive to be objective as we can.”

“I could not agree more, Dr. McCoy,” remarks Spock.

Jim’s mouth presses into a thin line. “I am as objective as I can be.”

“Sure you are.” In a pig’s eye, he adds silently. “It’s just that I know you, Jim. You have a tendency to turn into a protective mama bear when you think one of your cubs is being threatened.”

That remark has the intended effect: a smile ghosts his friend’s face.

“I don’t know…” comes Jim’s answer. “You seem more mama-bearish to me.”

Leonard sniffs. “I’m a papa bear.”

Their third companion clears his throat. “As interesting as I find this change to the conversation, I suggest we focus on the task at hand while we have the time.”

Blue eyes sparkling with mischief, Leonard stage-whispers to Jim, “I think Spock’s afraid to admit that he is the baby bear in our analogy.”

“Bones,” is Kirk’s amused warning, “enough. Spock’s right. This place is not secure. We could be interrupted at any moment.”

While Leonard concedes that truth with a nod, he cannot help one last dig. “I’d say you side with the hobgoblin too much, but we both know you need me for my illogical insights.”

At the same time, Jim’s expression softens and fills with regret. “I do need you, Bones—which is why I want you to beam back to the ship.”

Leonard snaps upright. “Absolutely not!”

“I must agree with the Captain.”

“No one asked for your opinion, Mr. Spock!” Leonard bites back. “Jim, you wanted me here for a reason, even if it turned out to be different than what I thought that reason was. I’ll be damned if I walk away now.”

“This risk to you just tripled, Bones, the very opposite of what I wanted. I can’t in good conscience let you stay.”

“You’re not sending me back.” Leonard widens his stance and crosses his arms in a show of stubbornness.

“Spock,” Jim murmurs, gaze still fixed on McCoy.

Spock removes his communicator from his belt and flips it open.

Leonard has a moment to think up a counterattack, which prompts his lunge for the traitorous Vulcan and the evil device, but Jim anticipates the reaction and steps between them, grabbing onto Leonard’s shoulders.

The man makes a plea. “Don’t fight me on this.”

Leonard levels his fiercest glare at his friend (a look renowned for making lesser men cower) but it seems to have no effect. Over Jim’s shoulder, he sees Spock twisting the frequency dial on the communicator.

“Jim,” he warns, “don’t do this. I’m no good to you from the ship.”

The grip on his shoulders tightens. “Try to understand. I need you safe.”

But Leonard doesn’t want to understand. “Then you’ll have to make it an order, Captain.”

Jim calls the bluff. “I order you to return to the Enterprise.”

Leonard slumps under Jim’s hands.

Jim releases him with a quiet “Sorry, Bones.”

“Captain,” Spock’s interruption has both men swinging their heads around to look at him, “I fear Dr. McCoy may have no choice but to remain on the surface. It appears that our communication channel has been blocked.”

“What?” Jim strides to Spock, taking out his own communicator. “How?”

“‘By who?’ might be a more appropriate question,” Leonard says, joining them. “Do we have any way to trace the interference, Spock?”

“Negative, Doctor.”

Jim’s hand holding the communicator drops to his side, accompanied by a heartfelt “Damn.“

Leonard can’t offer his sympathy because, for once, he is thankful the Enterprise cannot be reached. However, he does touch Jim’s shoulder. “Let’s talk about that plan,” he offers.

Expression grim, Kirk replies, “First, debrief me again on everything you heard between our mystery Aurelian and the wine trader.”

Leonard does not hesitate to oblige him.

~~~

The confidence to handle a tenuous situation grows between the three men but an unspoken tension remains subdued within all of them. Wishing something could be said to put his friends’ minds at ease, Leonard notes the way Spock watches Kirk, and Kirk watches him, no doubt still trying to determine some way to convince Leonard to stay out of harm’s way.

Leonard truly has no intention of caving to the man’s wishes. It aggravates him that, in comparison to Spock, he is seen as the fragile one. How much danger and heartache have the three of them survived over the years? How much more must he endure to prove that he is their equal in the field? That he is capable like they are of handling a critical mission?

It comes down to trust, Leonard supposes. Kirk trusts him just slightly less than he trusts Spock.

That thought is enough to make him miserable, and so he discards it for the time being. Spock is correct in that his emotions do weaken him when they are too strong—and come what may, Leonard is determined not to be weak this time.

Jim returns from whatever private thoughts have kept him silent for the past few minutes and looks to Spock and McCoy. “The Governor will be looking for me.”

Leaning against the balcony railing with legs crossed at the ankle and his arms secured over his chest, Leonard feels out Kirk’s mood by inquiring lightly, “Why? Did you charm her?”

Jim’s expression turns strange. “Hardly, Bones. She thinks I have an ulterior motive for attending her party.”

“You do have an ulterior motive, Captain,” Spock points out.

Leonard presses, “So you’re saying you didn’t try to charm her?”

Finally, the man’s mouth twitches. “Certainly my objective isn’t to make an enemy out of her.”

“He tried,” Leonard translates for Spock, “and failed. I think we just entered a new era.”

“Indeed. Perhaps the Captain has—as you have often remarked, Doctor—lost his touch.”

Leonard’s own mood improves, and he snickers, adding, “Maybe quite literally.”

Jim steps between them as if that might actually stop his friends from teaming up against him. “All right, you two. Let’s save the mischief for the ship.”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about, Jim. Spock and I always strive to be very professional.”

“I would agree with this statement except that I doubt Dr. McCoy’s definition of professional behavior coincides with mine. Furthermore, the statement simply fails to apply in his case.”

Leonard levels an accusing finger at Spock. “You traitor! Stop playing sides.”

A playful glint comes into the Vulcan’s eyes. “One must earn loyalty, Doctor.”

“What you’re going to earn is one very unpleasant physical examination, Mr. Spock!”

Jim sighs, a small huff of breath bearing more amusement than exasperation. He raises his hands with the declaration, “Enough. Spock, when we go out there, stay with McCoy. That’s an order.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Bones, try not to find trouble.”

“I think you have me mixed up with yourself, Jim. I don’t go looking for trouble. You do.“

“And you can fuss at me for that to your heart’s content once this mission is done.” Jim gives the doctor a sharp look. “Agreed?”

Leonard leaves his audience in suspense for a moment by pretending to consider his options. “…Fine, agreed.”

Jim nods once and moves toward the archway of the balcony. Leonard catches him, though, by laying a hand on his upper arm.

“Be careful,” he says, not fond of the idea of splitting up but understanding why it’s necessary.

One of Jim’s hands briefly covers Leonard’s, acknowledging the concern with a comforting squeeze. Then Jim walks into the ballroom and, much as he had at the beginning of the evening, disappears from sight.

Leonard sighs softly. “If I had a way to turn off my worry, I would. That man takes years off my life.” He adds without looking at the Vulcan, “I know you worry about him too. What are we going to do, Spock?”

“Stay the present course, Doctor, until either we reach an end or the end reaches us.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” mutters the man. He steps through the archway, Spock by his side.

~~~

Hands hidden behind his back, Leonard rocks from his heels to the balls of his feet while he watches a second group of lithely built Aurelians bombard the dance floor. Leonard read somewhere that dancing is one of the most common pastimes on Aurelis, and without a doubt he believes it.

In trying to remain inconspicuous, he and Spock have returned to the potted plant. From there, they continually survey their surroundings for any suspicious-looking parties.

Admittedly, Leonard is bored. He nudges his partner with his elbow. “What if we move closer to Jim’s group?”

“Negative.”

“What if we go back to the bar?”

“Negative.”

Leonard purses his mouth. “What if I asked you to dance?”

“Nega—” Spock stops, turns to look at him. “I assumed you did not dance.”

The doctor grasps his chest in exaggerated shock. “I’m a Southerner! ‘Course I can dance. Probably better than you.”

“I highly doubt that. As the son of a well-respected ambassador, I was required to learn over thirty distinctive dances. There was some expectation that when I was old enough, I would attend the occasional conference or social event in the company of my father and mother.”

Leonard clicks his mouth shut. “T-Thirty, did you say?”

“Thirty-four and a half, to be precise. The half of a dance refers to an aboriginal fire show which, according to the clans of the Capellans who still practice it, does not take place at social gatherings but rather during individual quests as a rite of passage for male youths to become warriors.”

Leonard stares at the Vulcan.

“Doctor, do you wish to say something? Your mouth has opened again.”

Leonard makes a sputtering noise and stalks to the opposite side of the plant. “Go away,” he says when Spock follows him. “I’m embarrassed that I even considered asking you.”

“Will this preclude you asking in the future?”

Leonard doesn’t know how to answer that, so he points to the second level of the ballroom. “Let’s go up there for a better view.”

“As you wish.”

By the time they have climbed the winding staircase to the second story, Leonard has rationalized the nervous butterflies in his stomach. He leans against the balustrade and scans the crowded ballroom more easily than before. When a person he recognizes crosses the floor, he wonders, “Do you think Jim will succeed?”

“We can hope so.”

“But what if he’s wrong?”

“Doctor, do you take delight in pointing out the flaws of every scenario?”

“Do you?” retorts the human. “Whenever I say some—Spock, look.”

Nearby, two Aurelian females shoot Leonard a dirty look at the loud exclamation before returning to their conversation. A male, of a race Leonard hasn’t encountered before, stares at them with interest.

Both Spock and McCoy lean forward slightly as Mark Connors slips into the ballroom from a side entrance near the bar. They track his progress as he hunts through the people down below, and Leonard whispers “Gotcha” when the man finds the person he is searching for. Hoping the band music conceals his conversation with Spock, he asks, “How’s he involved with the Governor’s husband?”

“At this point, we can only guess.”

“Well, I doubt it’s to do with wine. How many wine traders do you know have a doctorate?”

“I know of no wine traders.”

“Look, he’s leaving!” Leonard moves toward the stairs with a hurried “Let’s follow him.”

Suddenly Spock is blocking the staircase. “I must protest. This is not part of the plan.”

“Good thing about plans, Spock, is that we can change them as we need to.”

“And who will inform the Captain?”

“You,” Leonard counters. “Now move aside.”

Surprisingly, Spock does move but he is only one step behind Leonard when they reach the lower level. Leonard heads to a double archway decorated with flowering vines. He ducks through the left one. The hall beyond the archway splits into three directions.

Leonard muses, “Now which way did he go?”

“The left corridor leads to the left wing; similarly with the right. Straight ahead, we would find ourselves entering the gardens.”

“When did you memorize the layout?”

“On the ship, Doctor.”

“Oh, of course. Because you knew this was a mission.” Leonard harrumphs. “I have a bone to pick with you about that… later.”

“Provide me with the time and place and I will adjust my schedule so that you might freely express your discontent at your leisure.”

“It’s a date, then.” Leonard starts down the corridor that Spock claims leads to the outside. “If I wanted to engage in clandestine activities, I would pick the least guarded spot.”

“That seems logical. It was noted in the invitation that the gardens would be open to the public for the duration of the event.”

After a minute of walking, they come to the end of the corridor and stand at the top of a landing that overlooks an empty courtyard. There are several openings to the gardens along the low stone wall that fences in the courtyard.

Leonard eyes the tall, thick hedges behind the wall and remarks, “I hope you memorized the maze too.” When no response comes, he turns to Spock in slight alarm. “Wait, didn’t you?”

Spock stares in consternation at the hedges. “The maze yields no opening to the transporter landing, Doctor. I… did not consider it logical as an escape route.”

Oh well, Leonard thinks to himself since he doesn’t want Spock to feel bad. He starts down the steps.

Spock catches his arm. “Wait.”

“What?”

“It is illogical to proceed if we cannot navigate the structure. The risk is too great.” Spock indicates an upper window with a tilt of his head. “From that vantage point, I can study the pathways.”

“We don’t have that kind of time, Spock.”

“I estimate that it would take me no longer than two minutes.”

“But we don’t know how to get up to that room, let alone who might be guarding it.” Leonard shakes off the Vulcan’s hand. “My cousins and I went to the County Fair Corn Maze every fall up until I was sixteen. I’ve almost got a sixth sense when it comes to finding my way out of these things.”

“Forgive me, but I find no comfort in your experience as a child playing in a farmer’s field. This maze was carefully designed to look like the Imperial Seal of Aurelis from space.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Negative. I am attempting to curb your impatience before it places us in a difficult position.”

Leonard takes a moment to control his temper. “How about this? I go ahead into the maze while you memorize it. Then you can find me easily enough.”

Spock’s voice changes in tone, all at once smoother and chillier. “We must stay together. “

“Why? Because our captain said so? I know you worship the ground he walks on, Spock, but Jim doesn’t always get it right.”

“No matter how you seek to antagonize me, I will not be convinced to disobey a direct order.”

Leonard says nothing for a few seconds. Then, “That’s your problem, Mr. Spock. You are loyal.” He turns away. “Just not to me.”

A moment later, he walks down the steps. He offers no comment when the Vulcan chooses to follow him into the maze.

~~~

Half an hour and one soothed temper later, Leonard tugs on the back of Spock’s formal tunic to plead, “Can we rest a minute, please? These boots are murdering my feet.”

Spock stops and peruses Leonard’s boots. “Did you order the incorrect size?”

“No.”

“Is the arch support insufficient?”

“No.”

“Then I see no reason for your complaint, Dr. McCoy. We have walked less than two-thirds of a mile.”

“Are you counting the fact that I have been on my feet all evening?”

The Vulcan blinks, then concedes, “I suppose we could return to the bench.”

Leonard huffs but the sound is amused. “If you’ll recall, that bench was occupied.” He glances at the tips of Spock’s ears, now returned to their normal color, and teases, “I’ve never seen you so flustered before, Spock.”

“Some… activities should be performed in private.”

“I think that couple assumed they did have some privacy.”

“Doctor, I would argue that we are on public grounds but I do not see the point to this conversation and have no desire to encourage it further.”

“Well aren’t you a killjoy?” grumps the doctor. He hobbles closer to his companion. “Stand still for a minute. I’m gonna rest.”

Spock looks like he is going to question how Leonard plans to go about doing that but quickly closes his mouth when the human leans against him. The Vulcan locks his hands behind his back and, as Leonard requested, stands very still.

A few minutes later, Leonard sighs and claims to feel better. “I guess we can start the search again… Spock?”

Spock’s head remains turned in a different direction. “If you would, be silent a moment longer, Doctor.”

He thinks he understands what Spock is about, so he obeys. Strains to catch any sound, Leonard also listens but even after a minute of complete silence, he can hear nothing except their breathing. He whispers, “What is your super Vulcan hearing telling you?”

“There are two individuals up ahead… arguing.”

Spock starts forward, Leonard not far behind him. When they come to an impenetrable wall of hedges, Spock cocks his head, paces to one side of it and stops.

“They are… on the other side. Approximately here.”

“Is it Connors?”

“You are familiar with his voice, Dr. McCoy, not I.”

“We have to find a way around.”

“Come,” says the Vulcan. They follow the curve of the hedge wall until Spock stills and says, “No, we must go back.” They then turn around and follow the hedge wall in the opposite direction.

Leonard isn’t concerned with how Spock is leading them, whether by guesswork or mathematical computation. He just wants to find Connors as soon as possible. His gut feeling is telling him that they need to hurry. He doesn’t voice this feeling to Spock because Spock already appears to be concerned by what he hears.

The hedge row ends at an opening. Spock pauses, listens intently, then takes the lead again. Soon enough, his method of navigation plays off because Leonard’s human ears are able to pick up the sound of muffled voices too.

“I think it is Connors,” he says, “but I don’t recognize the other voice.”

Just then, a shout of alarm pierces the quietness of the maze. Leonard and Spock freeze.

Spock breaks into a run. Leonard does too, cursing under his breath, thinking that if they could have brought phasers, one good blast would take out these damn walls!

“NO, STO—!” The plea, clearly Connors, abruptly cuts to silence.

Leonard and Spock find the clearing in the maze a second too late.

“No!” cries Leonard, seeing one figure stooped over another crumpled on the ground. The smell of ozone and singed clothing is strong in the air.

A head jerks around, the face shadowed by the lowered hood of a dark robe. Realizing he has been discovered, the assailant bolts in the opposite direction. Spock goes after him.

Leonard rushes to the injured man, his instinct already telling him it is too late. When he turns Connors over on his back, the burn in the chest is still smoking. Leonard presses his fingers to the man’s neck, hoping against all odds to find a pulse.

Spock returns to the clearing a moment later, tense and grim, not needing to voice that he lost the assailant in the maze.

Leonard meets his gaze. “He’s dead.”

Removing his communicator from his belt, Spock seems fixated on trying to make it work. Leonard realizes then that Spock is initiating the protocol they had agreed upon in case of an emergency. His communicator will send an alert to Kirk’s communicator through an internal frequency.

Leonard starts to remove his hand from Connors’ neck when his fingers catch on something strange just behind an ear. He turns the man’s head to the side for a better look.

“Spock, c’mere. What do you make of this?”

“It appears to be an implant.”

The doctor lightly prods the implant. On cue, the face of Mark Connors flickers and then it fades entirely, revealing a different visage with a set of odd but familiar features. Leonard twists around to stare up at Spock for confirmation of the similarities.

“Oh hell,” he says, the answer dawning on him. “I think Connors is a Romulan.”

“Was, Doctor, which concerns me greatly at the moment. If he was here to facilitate the exchange with the Aurelians as I suspect, what would be the motive to kill him?”

“Then this is an emergency,” decides Leonard. “Jim has to know.”

“I have already contacted him. We should return to the ballroom as quickly as we can.”

Leonard contemplates at the body of the person he didn’t truly know at all. “I don’t think we should leave him like this.”

“To move him would create an undesirable complication to an already precarious situation.”

“Things are already complicated,” Leonard points out, “but I agree.” He stands up. “Maybe there’s a way we can send an anonymous tip to the authorities. I hate the thought of some couple out for an amorous stroll stumbling over him.”

“That would be the preferable solution.”

“Don’t be so cold-blooded, Spock.”

“Logic has nothing to do with the temperature of the blood.”

“Funny, I would have said the opposite.”

Spock closes his communicator. “Come, Doctor. We must go.”

Leonard shakes his head but moves to Spock. “You lead. All that winding through the bushes mixed up my sense of direction.”

“Very well.”

~~~

Leonard pokes his head around the edge of the archway to scan the crowd. “Blast it, where is he? Spock,” he calls worriedly, “how long has it been?”

“Since our arrival, twenty minutes and eleven seconds.”

Leonard rounds on his Vulcan companion. “How can you sound so calm? Something’s gone wrong. He lost his communicator. When he fell down the stairs. Then that evil Aurelian found him unconscious and now he is imprisoned. My god, Spock, Jim has been kidnapped in my place!”

“I would find your dramatic leaps of logic quite entertaining, Doctor, if the likelihood that the Captain has in fact encountered trouble was not increasing with each second that he remains absent.”

“Did I hear my name?”

Leonard and Spock whirl around with an identical cry of “Jim!”

Spock appears to immediately recognize his mistake in expressing the relief he should pretend not to have, for his face wipes clear of emotion.

But Jim Kirk is smiling pleasantly nonetheless. “You two must have been very worried about me.”

“‘Course we were! Who in the devil knows what you were up… to?” Leonard’s response stutters to a stop.

“Captain,” Spock says calmly, “I assume you are aware of your… entourage?”

“Quite, Mr. Spock,” Kirk replies. “Both of you, follow me.” Their captain pivots away with the expectation that they will do exactly as ordered.

Leonard is too uneasy to say no. He and Spock fall into step on either side of Kirk.

The two Aurelians behind them are never very far behind.

“Why are we under guard?” Leonard whispers.

“My suspicions were correct,” is all Jim offers in reply.

Leonard’s unease turns to nervousness.

Jim seems to know where he is going because he leads them unerringly to the left wing, up two flights of stairs and through several long corridors. They and their watchdogs come to a halt outside a set of double doors with an intricately carved relief above them. One of the guards slips into the suite. A moment later, he opens the doors wide, saying, “The Governor will see you now.”

The room looks more like a sitting room than an office, with one side partitioned into an area with plush furniture upon which one might recline after a long day of activity and the other side set up as a miniature study. The far wall is lined with shelves, sparsely filled. A large desk blocks the view of a small balcony that overlooks the grounds of the estate.

The Governor has changed clothes since Leonard last saw her. A waistcoat in stark black trimmed with silver braid covers a long-sleeved shirt made of very fine, pale blue silk and a matching cravat. Her trousers are of the same material and color as the waistcoat, and her thigh-high boots are sturdy leather. With a sword-belt and a saber on her hip, she looks like she belongs at the helm of a pirate ship rather than trapped behind a desk on a moon colony. He notices that her braid of hair is the same shining silver as the mystery Aurelian’s.

Jim bows. “Governor, thank you for the audience. May I introduce my shipmates, Dr. Leonard McCoy and Commander Spock?”

“I remember your Vulcan, but this other human… I had wondered to whom he belonged.” She moves gracefully around the wide desk to lean against the front of it with her arms folded across her chest. “He insulted a member of my Court by seducing the Vulcan away from her.”

“I think that’s a matter of perspective,” Leonard says in his defense.

Drumming her fingers against one of her elbows, the Governor offers him a thin smile. “I suppose I would have to agree.” Her attention returns to Kirk. “Captain, which of these officers claims to have been accosted?”

Leonard raises his hand. “It’s not a claim, ma’am. It’s a fact. He even had a goon.”

“What is a goon?” she asks Kirk.

“An accomplice,” the doctor clarifies. He waves a hand at the closed doors. “Like one of your guards, only out of uniform.”

With her gaze still on Kirk, she says, “For the threat against your officer, I will allow you to discipline the offender should you apprehend him. However, if one of my Court finds him before you, Captain, he will be pardoned for the crime.”

“Pardoned?” Leonard says in disbelief.

“Thank you, Governor,” Jim replies in an even tone to rival Spock’s. “That sounds fair.”

“Jim, no part of that sounded fair to me!”

“It would be your word against his, Bones. A person is not prosecuted based on word alone.” Suddenly Jim’s eyes become hooded. “But I only need probable cause to put a man in my brig.”

Kirk’s unusually dark tone silences Leonard’s protest.

Projecting an air of amused patience, the Governor’s head inclines towards Spock. “I have noticed that your Vulcan is not very talkative. Is he shy?”

Spock breaks his silence. “I was merely assessing the situation. Why would Your Ladyship grant a personal audience to appease a guest over such a small slight?”

Leonard stares at Spock. Small slight? Spock must be joking!

The Governor nods approvingly, as if Spock has said something she wished to hear.

“You would be correct, Commander. I rarely grant personal audiences… but your Captain and I must address a delicate matter in a place where those with listening ears do not dare to venture.”

“The matter would pertain to the Romulans,” Spock states.

The Governor’s mouth curves into a wicked smile. “Yes, the Romulans.” She unfolds her arms and tucks her hands behind her back, striding to stand beside a large wing-backed chair. “The Romulan Empire is well-known to be an enemy of the Federation. A ruthless race of warriors, set to conquer this galaxy. Tell me, Spock of Vulcan, is it true that Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry?”

“Affirmative.”

“I find that intriguing. Do you consider yourself a warrior, then?”

“It would be illogical to deny that one must be willing to fight when necessary, but I would say that my aim shall always be to choose a path of peace.”

“A diplomatic answer, very similar to the one your father offered me some years ago.”

Spock raises one of his eyebrows. “If you have met my father, then you must understand the purpose of the Federation: to foster a peaceful coexistence between those of us who share this galaxy while preserving our individual liberties and cultures.”

“Yes, Ambassador Sarek was very informative. I would welcome him again on Aurelis—” Her gaze cuts back to Kirk. “—so long as he brings none of his Federation propaganda with him.”

Jim answers shrewdly, “The day may be coming when you can’t avoid it.”

“We shall see, Kirk.”

Leonard raises his hand for the second time. “Can I just say that I’m a little confused? Forgive me, ma’am, but just because you know about the Romulans doesn’t exclude you from being in collusion with them. In fact, it makes you look mighty suspicious to my eyes. Captain, what do you think?”

Jim nods slightly, taking the opportunity Leonard has given him to control conversation. “I think the Governor knows who is working with the Romulans.”

“I do,” she replies, dark eyes glittering.

“I also think—no, I am certain—that the Governor finds the Romulans slightly more despicable than us.”

“Astute of you, Captain Kirk.”

Leonard interjects hotly, “Then why the heck would you invite Federation members to your party?”

“A fair question,” concedes their host, languidly draping one of her arms across the top of the chair. “But surely you understand that one planet cannot exist in a universe of its own, Dr. McCoy. Aurelis does have some use for offworlders. And as your captain said, the time will come for my people to make a decision concerning their future. My duty is to ensure that future is a respectable one.”

“Which I assure you will not happen under the rule of the Romulans,” Jim concludes. “That said, would you be willing to let the Federation help you?”

“Captain, do not mistake me for a fool. I am prepared to take action without you.”

Uh-oh, Leonard thinks.

But Spock comes to the rescue: “Is Your Ladyship willing to listen to a proposal that would not obligate Her to entertain the Federation’s fancies?”

“I’m listening, Commander.”

“There is, at this time, a deceased Romulan in your gardens.”

“What?” Kirk nearly shouts, turning on his First Officer.

Leonard places a hand to his forehead and mutters, “Need to teach you some tact, hobgoblin.”

Spock ignores both humans. “He attended your Gala under the guise of a Terran trader named Mark Connors. I would, of course, like to point out that it is highly unlikely he was killed by someone of his own party, therefore implying the existence of a third party who, already aware of his presence and his purpose, decided to eliminate him.”

Leonard turns to the Governor, staring at her in a new light.

“Go on,” she replies, unperturbed.

“Under normal circumstances this is merely conjecture… and likely to remain so given that Starfleet has no jurisdiction in investigate the murder of a non-Federation member on a non-Federation planet. However, I do recall a particular clause in our regulations which states that if an officer is engaged in business with a victim of a crime, he may assist the local authorities in their investigation until such time that he is satisfied that the investigation has been appropriately resolved. To my knowledge, Dr. McCoy had engaged in discussion with Mr. Connors regarding his trade—that is, the wine he sold.”

Leonard hopes his expression doesn’t give away his surprise. He thinks, Spock, you rascal! You’re going to get caught!

Spock continues on placidly, “I assume you would find it bothersome to have Dr. McCoy join your investigation of the Romulan’s death.”

The Governor’s eyes gleam as if she is greatly enjoying the conversation. “Undoubtedly. What do you propose so that I might avoid this situation?”

“Is Spock really blackmailing the Governor of Aurelis?” Leonard whispers to Jim.

“I think so,” Jim whispers back, looking quite proud of his First Officer.

If Spock hears them talking about him, he pretends otherwise.

“A simple alliance, to be dissolved in conjunction with the dissolution of the Romulan-Aurelian pact.”

“In other words,” adds Jim, “if you help us preserve this sector of space by telling the Romulans to go home, we’ll leave you alone… for the time being.”

“Until I invite you to come back,” amends the Governor.

“All right,” the captain agrees mildly.

Leonard watches in fascination as the Governor’s wicked smile turns genuine.

“Then we have an accord, Captain Kirk. Since I find that I am pleased, I will tell you who attacked your officer.”

Leonard’s whole body jolts. “Wait, you knew all along?”

Her amusement remains evident for all to see. “Dr. McCoy, there is little that occurs on these premises to which I am not privy.” Then, sounding shockingly detached, she informs them McCoy’s attacker is her nephew.

“While Jorval did inherit the family temper, he was not blessed with cunning or patience. Realizing that the doctor could be in a position to expose his duplicity, he intended to silence the human.”

“That… doesn’t sound like kidnapping,” Leonard says slowly.

“Death would be the most permanent solution,” the Governor explains in a cool manner. “My point is this: my nephew cares little for elaborate deceptions. His interest lies solely in the rewards. The one who enjoys the challenge would be my husband.”

Leonard exchanges a glance with Spock.

Jim just looks grim to hear this. “Do you have evidence to support your theory?”

“A theory it is not. If this ploy with the Romulans succeeds as planned, I shall be dead and my husband will become Regent.” Oddly, she smiles.

Leonard makes a face. “Sounds like have a wonderful marriage.”

“Every marriage has its disappointments, Dr. McCoy.”

“You’re more generous than I would be if my spouse was plotting to murder me.”

“You see things as a man of your race would. We of Aurelis deal with traitors in our own way, in our own time. I have long since been aware that my husband’s ambitions have outgrown his current position.”

Jim clears his throat. “Then we’ll leave the resolution of your domestic… dispute to your own discretion, Governor. My chief concern lies with the Romulans. What have they promised your husband in exchange for joining the Empire?”

“On this, I am unclear. There is a shipment expected to arrive but what it contains, what it is, is unknown. Weapons, perhaps. Technology. Our spaceflight capabilities are rather subpar in comparison to the warp technology used by other starfarers. I have no other suggestions. That answer you must discover for yourselves.”

Jim bows slightly from the waist. “Then I thank you. The information you have provided will benefit us greatly in our mission.”

Suddenly the Governor looks bored with their company. “Is our business concluded?”

Leonard turns to his captain. “Jim, it’s all well and good to know who shouldn’t be at our backs but how the heck do we tell Scotty to stay on the lookout for a Romulan Warbird?”

“That may be a question Her Ladyship can address,” Spock interjects.

The three officers turn as one to the Aurelian, who offers them a slight smile.

“Oh… yes. I issued order to dampen all external communications. Has that caused you some trouble?”

“Why?” Jim asks, clearly wary of the answer.

For the first time, Leonard sees the family resemblance between the Governor and her murderous nephew. Instinctively, he steps forward to shield Kirk; from the corner of his eye, he sees Spock do the same.

But true to his nature, Jim pushes in front of them again, demanding “Why?” again when a response does not come quickly enough for him.

“Simply put, I did not trust you, Kirk. I still do not trust you. I do not trust your Federation. Nor do I trust the Romulans.”

“She probably doesn’t trust her own grandmother,” mutters McCoy.

The Governor’s eyes pin the doctor for the briefest second, at which point he wisely closes his mouth.

She continues, her tone turning silky, “Therefore I would appreciate a show of faith so that my confidence in you might grow. One of you must become my honored guest until such time that I am assured of my safety from the Romulans or any other threat.”

Leonard exclaims, “That’s a fancy way of saying you want a hostage!”

His accusation isn’t denied.

“No,” is Kirk’s flat reply. “We do this the civilized way, or not at all.”

“This is civilized for me, Kirk. I could just as easily detain all three of you—” Her eyes are glittering like polished obsidian. “—on the suspicion of murder. The Aurelian method of interrogation is rather… rigorous. You would confess your crime in no time at all, and then you would be swiftly executed.”

Leonard knew this woman was frightening but to have it confirmed makes him feel worse rather than better. “You couldn’t do that. We’re Federation citizens. We have rights.”

“Your Federation laws do not apply on Aurelis, Dr. McCoy, and no regulation can protect you from my will, which is Law.” Her mouth curves, but the smile is not in the least bit gracious. “I will allow you a moment of privacy to make your decision.”

With that, the Governor of Aurelis leaves Kirk, Spock, and McCoy inside the suite with her guards at the door.

Leonard’s breath comes out as one big whoosh. “I say we make a break for it.”

“No,” Jim says.

“Are you kidding?

“No.” Jim’s voice is hard and flat. “I’ll stay.”

“Captain,” Spock says sharply, moving closer as though he anticipates Kirk might run out the door.

“Absolutely not,” Leonard vetoes the idea. “A Starfleet captain doesn’t hand himself over as a hostage, and you know it, Jim.”

“It’s not unprecedented.”

“Screw that. It’s NOT happening.” Leonard pauses, casts an appraising glance at the Vulcan. “And you can take it on good authority that Spock and I will fight you into the ground before we let you do something so foolish.”

Jim rounds on him, hands flexing. “Bones, it’s not your decision to make.”

Leonard responds in kind, his own temper sharpening. “I’ll declare you medically incompetent, Captain. Then it will be my decision!”

“Didn’t I warn you not to challenge me, McCoy?”

“Ha! Don’t challenge me.“

“Gentlemen,” Spock interrupts, “no proper decision can be made out of hostility. Captain, Dr. McCoy is correct in one aspect. You cannot become a hostage of the Governor. The political implications could lead to war.”

Jim lifts his eyebrows. “I’m just a captain, Spock.”

“With all due respect, you are the captain of a flagship.”

“I can forfeit my captaincy, hand command of the Enterprise over to you. We’ve done it that way before. She won’t know, and Starfleet can negotiate for my release as a citizen.”

“I hate that idea, Jim. I always have. Who’s to say Starfleet won’t drop you like a hot potato instead and leave you to the mercy of your captor?”

Jim locks his hands behind his back and paces an invisible line across the room. “It’s our best option, Bones.”

“The best option is to let someone less important bear the risk, like me or Spock. Sorry, Spock. I intend no offense.”

“I have taken none, Doctor.”

“I can’t,” Kirk claims stubbornly.

Leonard looks to Spock. Spock inclines his head slightly in tacit agreement and moves to the adjoining balcony so that he is both out of sight but close enough to respond if needed. Leonard waits a few seconds before he approaches Kirk.

“Jim, be reasonable,” he says in a soft voice. “You’re going to have to pick someone other than yourself. When it comes down to it, no one can resolve this mess but you. You saw how the Governor acted. She doesn’t have any respect for us, and her vanity prevents her from negotiating with anyone she considers of inferior rank. If you want to talk about best options, our only chance of succeeding comes from you retaining your autonomy.”

“Leaving you or Spock to her mercy.”

Leonard knows when to be patient. “Yes.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking me to do.”

“Don’t I? It’s not the first time you’ve had to choose one of us for the sake of a critical mission.”

“And every time I hope it’s the last… but it never is,” Jim replies, grim as ever. “I know you think I can be objective about this, Bones, but it’s difficult for me.” The man looks tired when he runs a hand over his face. “It only becomes more difficult with time.”

There’s something Jim is trying to tell him without saying it outright, but Leonard doesn’t know the right questions to ask. So he says instead, “How can I help make it easier? By volunteering?”

“No!” Jim visibly swallows. “It has to be a command, Bones. I… have to take responsibility, at the very least.”

Leonard shakes his head in dismay. “One thing I’ve learned about you is that I can physically stop you from going into danger but I can never protect you from the danger of your own mind. If you create a demon in here, Jim,” he taps his forehead, “you have to fight it by yourself.”

“Enough, Bones. I don’t need a lecture on my mental health.”

“I’m not giving you one. Just a reminder. There’s no blame here, or will be in the future. So pick one, a’right? And then let it go for your own sake.”

“Pick one?” Kirk’s laugh is mirthless. He pinches the bridge of his nose, one of his signs that usually foretells the beginning of a migraine. “You may as well ask me to choose my eyes or my ears. Which would I be willing to live without… when I don’t want to lose either.”

“People survive it all the time, being blind or deaf.”

“But they wouldn’t ask for it if there was a choice. That’s the difference.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Jim looks away. “I don’t know.”

Leonard steps forward. “Yes, you do. Look at me, Jim.” He waits for Jim to obey. “Which one?”

“Neither.”

“That isn’t an option.”

Jim’s free hand forms a fist. “It has to be.”

“You can’t protect everyone. You can’t save everyone. You can’t have—” everyone. Leonard swallows that word. “—everything you want. You know that, Captain, better than anyone else.” He gentles his tone. “Please, choose. Or if you can’t, say so. Spock and I will decide between us.”

It doesn’t surprise Leonard when Jim reaches for him, needing the contact. A moment later, Kirk gives in, whispering his answer in McCoy’s ear.

“Okay,” Leonard murmurs, sympathizing. He holds his friend a little longer, thinking they both need the comfort.

~~~

Of all things, Spock has disappeared from the balcony.

“Well, he can’t have jumped off,” Leonard reasons as he looks to the empty courtyard below, “and I doubt he climbed down.”

“He did neither,” Jim answers firmly, marching to a second door to the balcony. The door swings open easily when pushed upon.

Leonard hurries after Kirk into an empty bedroom. A terrible feeling grows in the pit of his stomach.

They find the Vulcan in the outer hallway, standing alongside the Governor and her guards.

“It was a wise decision to cooperate,” the Governor says before either Kirk or McCoy can speak. “I have arranged for you to take the body of the Romulan to your ship and removed your communications ban. You must contact me, Captain Kirk, once you have devised a suitable strategy to waylay our enemy.”

Focused solely on Spock, Jim acts as if he hasn’t heard a word of what was said. Everything about him is tense. “Commander, what is the meaning of this?”

“Circumstances are as they appear, sir. I have volunteered to remain with the Governor, and she accepted.”

“Spock!” Leonard gasps, shocked.

Jim turns red in the face, as he does when he’s furious. “You had no right—no right to supersede my authority!”

The Governor releases a sigh and trails back into the suite she had left them in as if she has no desire to listen to their squabbling. Her only remark is, “Join me, Commander Spock, once you have finished your goodbyes.”

“I shall, Governor.”

Leonard catches Jim’s hand as it balls into a fist and says, “Easy, Jim.”

“Spock, I order you to stand down.”

“I am afraid I cannot comply, Captain.”

“I make the decisions!” Jim barks.

“In this instance, your decision would be wrong.”

Leonard sucks in a breath. “Spock, let’s not—”

“Doctor, this matter is between Captain Kirk and myself. Capt—no. Jim. I do not see a way to offer an explanation more straightforwardly than I already have. I surmised that you would choose Dr. McCoy, quite easily in fact. You are after all,” Spock says in a strangely quiet manner, “remarkably competent in your command decisions when under duress. But I… find I am not agreeable to acting based on logic in this situation.”

Leonard feels his jaw drop. He closes it and for good measure works a finger into his ear to make certain his hearing isn’t stopped up.

Did Spock just denounce logic?

Meanwhile, Jim’s anger appears to have quieted, though it hasn’t vanished entirely. He scrutinizes Spock with thoughtful consideration. “Why?”

“Leonard would call it ‘caring’, but since I am uncomfortable admitting to an emotion in his presence, we will say that I am simply follow your original order to ensure his safety.” Spock blinks. “On the record, of course.”

“There you go again with my first name,” Leonard says, choked. “Damn hobgoblin.”

“…Doctor, if you are approaching me with any intention of touching my person, I ask that you do not.”

“Hold still, you wily devil.”

“Captain,” the Vulcan bleats from the circle of the doctor’s arms, “Captain—Jim—please remove him.”

Jim crosses his arms. “You have to be punished for your disobedience somehow, Mr. Spock. Consider a hug getting off easy.”

Leonard finally lets go of his wooden partner, giving one of Spock’s thin shoulders a friendly pat. “There now, don’t we all feel better?”

“No,” Spock replies immediately.

“I’m still mad,” Jim tells them, “but I’m willing to forgive you, Spock, on the condition that you do nothing to provoke the Governor until your return to the ship.”

“Yeah,” the doctor says slyly, “because then Jim’s going to kick your butt from here to the Orion Belt.”

“Bones.“

“What?”

“…Never mind.”

Spock reminds them, “The Governor has deactivated the dampener.”

Jim nods and pulls out his communicator. His first attempt of “Kirk to Enterprise” is a successful one.

“Scott here. We had a fright when we couldn’t contact ye, Capt’n! Strangest thing, though… communications seem to be workin’ now.“

“Yes, there was some interference from the surface. But we’ll discuss that later. For now, two to beam up, Mr. Scott.” Jim draws in a small breath. “Myself… and Doctor McCoy.”

The engineer sounds alarmed. “Not Mr. Spock, sir?“

Jim’s voice hardens slightly. “It’s as I said.”

“…Aye. Stand by for transport.“

Jim clicks the device shut, the skin around his eyes tightening as his First Officer purposely moves back to remain out of range. “Remember what I said, Spock.”

“I will, Captain.”

Leonard’s heart picks up speed at the first inkling of the tingling sensation associated with the transporter beam. “Spock,” he says a bit helplessly, “I swear we’ll come back.”

The Vulcan lifts his hand in goodbye, speaking. It matters little that Leonard cannot hear a word over the buzzing in his ears, for the Vulcan salutation could be accompanied by nothing other than live long and prosper.

He reforms on the transporter pad with Kirk, tears in his eyes. The spot beside him where Spock should have stood has never felt emptier.

Next Part

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