Title: Wills and Ways
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Spock/McCoy, pre-Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: Either Leonard is paranoid or someone has taken a very keen interest in him. The identity of the latter turns out to be quite unexpected.

“Do you ever get this creepy feeling that you’re being watched?” Dr. Leonard McCoy asks his head nurse, Christine Chapel.

Chapel, in the middle of sorting which reports her boss signed and which he didn’t, shoots him a wry look. “You are being watched.”

McCoy stops chewing on the top of his stylus in alarm. “What do you mean?”

The woman points at the ceiling of his office.

Leonard settles again. “Oh. I didn’t mean that.”

With a shake of her head, Christine pushes a stack of data padds under the man’s nose. “You’re too paranoid, sir. Here. You accidentally skipped these.”

McCoy’s mouth purses. They both know he didn’t skip anything by mistake. Slowly he draws the stack a little closer to him and activates the screen of the top padd, staring at it in dismay.

Christine’s look is not sympathetic. She says pointedly, “I’ll be back to retrieve them this afternoon.”

“Great,” comes the mutter.

“I knew you would think so,” the nurse replies smartly before turning on her heel to leave. She pauses in the open doorway. “You may be on to something.”

However, Christine doesn’t clarify her statement and Leonard is too slow to question her before she is a mere shadow along the hallway.

He shuts down the padd screen and sits back in his chair, expressing his wonder concisely with “Huh.”

~~~

Aboard the Enterprise, nothing is followed more religiously by the crew, from the most junior of officers to the highest-ranking seniors, than their meal schedules. The starship is equipped with two large dining halls to accommodate the normal flux of hungry personnel and sometimes finding a free seat in either area can be a challenge. On this particular stardate, the chatter and crowd are nearly stifling, especially for Leonard McCoy.

But perhaps it’s a little more than just the number of people that is bothering him.

He leans sideways to tell his lunch partner, “I’ve got that feeling again.”

The lunch partner is too busy stuffing a handful of replicated fries into his mouth to respond on cue. Unsurprised by this, Leonard huffs and elbows his way down the cafeteria line.

James Kirk soon catches up to him because, unlike for the CMO, the sea of officers willingly parts to allow passage for the captain of their ship. Jim has always had that kind of effect on people.

“Sorry, Bones. What was the question?”

“No question, kid. Just a feeling.”

Jim nods slightly as his hand snakes out to grab a ready-made dessert. “What was the feeling?”

“Do you ever eat like an adult?” Leonard grouches, removing the cake from his captain’s tray and replacing it with nutritious but far less appetizing gelatin cubes.

Jim groans.

Leonard adds an apple to the tray.

Kirk plucks up the apple, takes a large bite out of it, and then proceeds to move past the dessert selections without additional complaint.

Leonard remarks somewhat grimly, “I feel like there are eyes on my back.”

“Is that all? You get used to it.”

He carefully places a cup of coffee on his tray. “What’s that mean?”

Amused, Jim lifts his eyebrows. “Bones, I’m the captain of a flagship. I’m always under scrutiny. Pretty certain even my bathroom breaks are monitored.”

Leonard doesn’t say anything to that since he is the one monitoring Kirk’s trips to the bathroom—along with the man’s diet, his sleeping patterns, restless leg syndrome and a dozen other measurable medical things. “I’m not talking about our resident Big Brother.”

“Big Brother who?”

“Never mind. I’m just saying… I feel unsettled. You know what? Forget it. I must be paranoid.”

“Oh, you are,” agrees his friend wholeheartedly. But then Jim leans over to him to whisper, “Can you tell the direction?”

Leonard pauses to concentrate on that and, a minute later, turns back to look down the line of officers waiting for a turn at the replicators. Jim turns with him. No one is looking directly at them except the last person in line.

Together, Kirk and McCoy stare at the First Officer of the Enterprise, and the Vulcan unabashedly stares back.

“Weird,” remarks Jim.

Leonard decides uneasily, “Can’t be, I must be crazy,” and picks up his tray.

If his pace across the mess hall is a bit too hurried, Jim doesn’t comment on it or try to slow Leonard down. The men settle at the end of an almost fully occupied table and, Vulcan stalker or not, everything seems to return to normal.

~~~

An after-shift drink is one of Leonard’s favorite things.

“I invited Spock to dinner.”

Until someone makes him nearly spit it out.

Leonard coughs and swipes at his mouth with the back of his shirt sleeve. “You what?“

Jim shrugs. “He seems interested in us.”

Having finally calmed his choking fit, he growls, “The only thing that pointy-eared bastard is interested in is determining what makes us humans flawed, then making sure we know about it.”

Jim’s sideways glance at Leonard has an unreadable quality to it. “Is that what you really believe, Bones?”

“Would I have said so otherwise?” he retorts.

Kirk scratches the side of his neck. “He’s still coming to dinner.”

“You oversized infant.” Leonard sees that Jim has made up his mind. “Fine. Tell me when I need to be scarce.”

“Sorry, it’s a party of three. I need you there.”

Leonard looks somewhat mollified to hear that Jim needs him, though he feels bound to point out, “I can’t promise to behave.”

Jim offers him a crooked grin which challenges the idea that either of them would know how to behave themselves.

Leonard sips at his drink again and taps the ring on his pinky finger against the glass out of habit. “I suppose one meal couldn’t hurt.”

“It’ll be fun,” Jim assures him. “A team-building exercise.”

“Or the beginning of a disaster.”

“There are no disasters on my ship, Bones, only lessons to be learned.”

“Amazing. Wise words out of the mouths of babes.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me, kid.”

Leaning forward, eyes sparkling, Jim raises his drink. “To wisdom—and foresight.”

Leonard snorts but knocks his tumbler against Kirk’s anyway. After they each take a swallow of their liquor of choice, he remarks, “This will either be the best idea or the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

Jim just nods, picks up an uncapped gourd-shaped bottle, and refills McCoy’s glass.

~~~

Dinner, while not as awkward as Leonard had feared, becomes a prelude to something much more exciting.

That is, it’s exciting for Jim and Spock.

Leonard slumps into the couch, drink in hand, and contemplates putting his feet on the low table in front of him. Would they even notice if he did? How about if he took off his shoes and socks and stretched out for a nap?

He sighs through his nose and wets his lips with his mint julep.

The others in the room are so entrenched in their game, they fail to take note of his boredom.

Chin on fist, eyes hooded, Jim is a perfect image of the thinking man. Spock is more statuesque, his posture imbued by that balance of stern dignity and natural grace which seems inherent to his race. Neither of their expressions are grim, per se, but anyone with half a brain could pick up on the competitive edge driving the calculated, careful moves of their pawns. A desire to cheer them on hasn’t struck Leonard yet. Frankly, he is too apathetic to concentrate on the game, having never understood the appeal of chess, no matter how Jim has tried to spark his interest in it.

Being bored and disinterested, the urge to sleep is winning him over.

It’s worth the risk of their protest, he decides.

Leonard sets his julep on the floor, removes his boots and straightens out across the couch cushions. Laying an arm over his eyes is all the convincing his brain needs to accept that it’s his bedtime. Before he knows it, the quiet clinks of game pieces and hushed sounds of breathing grow distant to his ears. His thoughts drift.

Inevitably he falls asleep.

An undetermined amount of time later, he wakes up to a dark room and a blanket covering his legs and chest. It’s not the first time he’s fallen asleep on Kirk’s couch but it certainly is the first time he has woken up to find a Vulcan keeping watch over him.

Further squinting at the shadows reveals that Spock, though sitting up, is asleep.

Leonard drops his hand to the blanket at his chest and in fascination watches the steady rise and fall of the Vulcan’s chest. Spock’s position doesn’t appear to make him uncomfortable. Strangely, he looks almost… relaxed.

Leonard quietly shifts position and tries to get up.

Spock’s eyes open.

Leonard freezes. After a moment, he murmurs, “You were awake.”

“Affirmative.” Despite the confirmation, Spock’s voice has the deep timbre of someone who had been sleeping for a few hours.

Leonard sits up. “Jim?”

“Retired to his room.”

The question pops out before he can think better of it. “Then why aren’t you?”

Spock tilts his head ever-so-slightly. “Are you inquiring why I have not retired to my room—or to his?”

Leonard hadn’t been thinking like that at all but the way Spock says it, lightly curious, without issue, makes him picture that very thing. He is immensely grateful for the low lighting of the cabin because he feels his body respond in kind.

When his brain finally catches up, Leonard balks at his arousal. Flustered, he shoves his feet into his boots, skips the act of lacing them, and drags the blanket up with him like a shield when he stands. He mutters an apology for falling asleep.

Spock’s eyes track the doctor’s movements as Leonard skirts the couch. Just before Leonard reaches the exit, Spock says, “I could accompany you back to your quarters.”

Leonard has never had his mind go so obstinately blank at such a simple offer.

Take it at face-value, McCoy, he has to remind himself. Without doubt, Spock means it that way.

Not looking back, he shakes his head. “I’ll be okay, but thanks.” Then he escapes into the empty corridor, hurries toward the nearest lift, and counts the infinitely long seconds until the doors hide him from view. He latches onto the rail of the back wall to steady himself.

What just happened?

Has he lost his mind?

Leonard puts a hand to his forehead, half-chokes, half-chuckles. “As if,” he tells himself.

Of all people on this ship, Spock is the one person who would never proposition him. Of that, he can be certain.

~~~

Many restless hours later, it finally occurs to Leonard that Spock couldn’t have stayed to watch over him without Jim’s knowledge, thereby implying some kind of permission, even if tacit, had been given. Because this thought unsettles Leonard, he goes straight to Kirk for an explanation.

“I woke up and he was there, Jim. Just there. Like he’d been watching me while I slept.”

If Leonard’s friend is concerned at all to hear this, he doesn’t show it. “Can you hand me that tunic?”

Leonard grabs the first thing peeking out of the dresser drawer and shoves it at Kirk’s bare chest. “Are you listening to what I’m sayin’?”

Jim refuses to take the tunic. “Not this one—the green one, Bones.”

Leonard yanks the drawer out of the dresser and dumps its contents on the floor.

With dismay, Jim stares down at the pile of shirts now hiding his feet. “That was unnecessary.”

Leonard glares. “It was unnecessary to turn Spock into your guard dog.”

Jim’s head jerks up, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t force him to do anything. He volunteered.”

Leonard pokes his finger into Jim’s collarbone. “And you let him, didn’t you?”

“Why not?”

“Because it made me uncomfortable, Jim!”

Jim snorts and steps back, stooping down to grab a green tunic. “There’s a saying that one doth protest too much. Sounds like your comfort level isn’t the real issue, Bones. Otherwise I doubt you would have fallen asleep on us.”

Leonard wants to strangle Jim. He really does. “Falling into a stupor is what happens when I’m bored. You know I can hardly pay attention to a chess match on a holoboard!”

“Liar,” Kirk fires back, tying the wraparound tunic into place. “You weren’t bored, Bones. You were at ease—trusting.” His tone softens. “You trusted us. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Leonard admits, “but you can’t presume it was because of Spock.”

Jim turns away to pick up a small towel from his bed and scrub it against his hair. “I presume nothing. I can only hope.”

That gives Leonard pause. He crosses his arms, studying his friend more closely. “Meaning what?”

But Jim shrugs off the question. “Never mind. It’s irrelevant.”

If Jim can be like a dog with a bone, Leonard can be worse. He says pointedly, “We’re way past denial, kid. There’s something going on in that head of yours. For both our sakes, tell me what it is before it backfires.”

Jim’s mouth takes on a sardonic quirk. “Your faith in me is humbling.”

“If I didn’t have faith in you, I wouldn’t be on this ship.”

Kirk’s small quirk of the mouth becomes a genuine smile.

Leonard sighs through his nose. “I can’t believe I came here thinking I could figure you out. When have I ever figured you out?”

“And I can’t believe you woke me up to complain about Spock.” Jim pauses, amends, “Well, maybe I can, but in the future you can’t do this every time he comes too close to you. I’m serious, Bones. I would never sleep.”

Leonard says sharply, “You make it sound like there’s a chance of it becoming a regular occurrence.”

Jim just slaps his shoulder and heads toward the bathroom.

A funny feeling starts in the pit of Leonard’s stomach. He pivots around to watch Jim until the bathroom door is closed.

What’s going on? Leonard thinks.

And since when did Jim’s assessment of Spock change? Because if there’s anything Leonard knows for certain now, it’s that Jim no longer sees Spock as his uptight second-in-command.

Thinking of what that could mean, the funny feeling in Leonard’s stomach intensifies.

~~~

In a more impersonal situation, Leonard would have no qualm about dragging Commander Spock aside and trying to take stock of what is going on between him and Kirk. He does it frequently whenever Jim and Spock have butted heads over some course of action or interpretation of regulation or law that puts them at odds. Heck, he does it just to keep tabs on why Kirk might be acting unlike himself. In that regard, Spock makes an excellent spy.

But this time Leonard is involved in the thick of things. And to make matters ironic, he can’t figure out how he is involved.

Jim-free, off-duty hours find Leonard lingering outside the First Officer’s quarters like a lost pup. Not knowing what to expect or what is expected of him has been driving him crazy. This circling of thoughts finally prompts him to press the buzzer beside the door. He bobs up onto his toes while he waits for an answer.

Spock doesn’t ask after who is bothering him late into beta shift. The response which floats serenely through the speaker is “Come in, Dr. McCoy.”

When Leonard enters, Spock offers him a cup of steaming coffee.

Leonard takes the proffered mug and eyes the Vulcan. “How did you know I wanted to see you?”

The Vulcan folds his hands over his lap. “You have been pacing outside my quarters for seventeen point thirty-six minutes—providing me ample time in which to prepare a beverage of your preference while you decided if you would approach me.”

Leonard decides Spock is just being Spock and not actively trying to insult him, so he sips at the coffee. Then he has to pull back and stare into the mug, for the taste of the brew is not what he is used to. It’s much richer.

“Do you like it?”

Leonard looks up to Spock. “This is the stuff they served at that fancy dinner on Starbase Nine—except I didn’t think you drank coffee, Spock.”

“I do not, but I noted that you seemed to enjoy it.”

Leonard stares at the Vulcan for a moment longer before gesturing at an empty chair. “May I sit?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll get to the point.”

Spock retorts, as if it doesn’t occur to him not to say it, “That would be most refreshing.”

Leonard sniffs but allows the jab to pass unchallenged since he isn’t there to enjoy a spar of wits. “You’re trying very hard to grab my attention. Why?” He adds quickly, “And what does it have to do with the Captain?”

Spock transfers his elbows to the armrests of his chair and steeples his fingers as though readying himself to engage in a lengthy debate. “Are you prepared to hear my answer?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“A legitimate one, I assure you. If I tell you the truth, I believe it will disturb you. Moreover, there is the possibility it will hamper our ability to work together.”

Leonard swallows and sits back. Of course. Why didn’t he figure it out sooner? “You like me.”

“Affirmative.”

Leonard rubs a hand against his mouth. “Why?”

For the first time since the conversation started, the Vulcan appears to weigh his words carefully. “That answer is more complicated. I am not in a position to claim to fully understand it myself.”

“For god’s sake, you have to give me a reason, Spock!” Leonard draws a breath, then, since becoming defensive would only result in making things worse rather than better, and apologizes. “Didn’t mean to snap. I’m just… surprised.” He clasps his coffee cup tightly with both hands. “I don’t know what to think, and frankly now I feel awkward.”

“I said you would be disturbed.”

Leonard closes his eyes so he cannot roll them. “What is it that you want from me?”

Silence.

Leonard’s eyes open.

Spock’s reply is slow in coming and more heartfelt than his usual stoic delivery. “I do not require anything, Dr. McCoy. That you know is enough. It is… a relief.”

Leonard wishes he could say the same. He rises from his seat and places his mug on an empty table. “I need time to digest this.” He looks away, then back again, and promises, “It won’t affect our working relationship.”

Spock comes to his feet and takes a formal stance. “I appreciate you saying so.”

Leonard almost doesn’t ask but decides he cannot afford further confusion. “And Jim?”

Spock says simply, “Jim knows.”

Leonard nods.

Spock doesn’t follow him across the room.

Lingering briefly at the door, Leonard wonders if there is something he can say which won’t hurt Spock, but in the end all he can do is keep his silence and leave.

~~~

It’s Kirk who takes Leonard aside the next day.

“News travels too fast on this ship,” Leonard says rather dryly, fighting to ignore the sudden thudding of his heart against his ribs as a fierce-looking Jim backs him into his own office.

“What did you say to Spock?” the man demands when the door has slid shut and effectively shielded them from listening ears.

“Nothing.”

Jim raises his hands as if intending to shake Leonard by the shoulders but he stops halfway through the motion. Even with this physical impulse curbed, Kirk’s voice stays infused with tension. “Why would you do that?”

Experiencing a moment of déjà-vu, Leonard swallows hard and keeps his mouth shut. He doesn’t have an answer today any more than he did the day prior.

“Bones?”

He has to say something. Jim won’t leave until he does. “…You should have told me.”

Kirk’s arms drop to his sides. “What would have been the result if I had?”

“I could have avoided Spock.”

“Exactly.”

The men stare at each other for a long time.

Finally Leonard relents. “I’m not trying to hurt him, Jim, but you can’t expect me to lie.”

“It never would have crossed your mind to lie,” Jim says, “but just so you know, I would’ve kick your ass if you did.”

Leonard’s mouth twitches. But his moment of amusement is brief as he considers the fact that Spock must matter a great deal to Jim.

Jim sighs long and low before stepping back to lean against Leonard’s desk. His hands clamp around the desk’s edge. “Bones, we both know I’m the least reliable source for advice when it comes to personal relationships. You also know I will be your friend no matter what… but I’m Spock’s friend too.”

It seems like Jim is more than Spock’s friend. “When did that happen, by the way?”

Jim smiles. “You told me I had to make an effort to get along with him.”

“I never did!” Leonard argues but immediately after claiming that, he recalls the conversation to which Jim is referring. “Shit, Jim, I meant with the crew as a whole. I didn’t tell you to chase after the hobgoblin so you could invite him to a sleepover!”

“You have a funny way of putting things, Bones.”

“Shut up. How long have you known?”

Jim scratches his chin. “Uh, three months? Maybe six? It was fairly obvious when he started tracking your schedule.”

Leonard sputters. He doesn’t know if he’s more appalled by the idea that Spock has been tracking him or that Jim has a way of knowing if someone is tracking him.

Did he say six months?

Leonard’s ability to speak returns. “That’s not possible! I don’t live with my head in the damn sand!”

Laughter bursts out of Jim.

Leonard covers his face and takes a deep breath.

Jim peels one of Leonard’s hands away. “Don’t feel bad. Your obliviousness is kind of your charm.”

“You need to stop, Jim-boy. You really do. You are not making me feel any better.”

Kirk lets go of him, tucking one hand beneath his leg. “It is so impossible, Bones? To give him a chance?”

“Does it matter to you?”

“Yes.”

“Because you’re Spock’s friend.”

“Partly. I did mention that I was your friend too.”

Those ridiculous stomach butterflies return. “Then you’re sayin’ you think it’s in both our interests.”

Jim is silent for a moment. “What the heart wants, the heart wants, Bones. You can’t invent love anymore than you can forget it.” He comes to his feet. “If I were in your shoes, I know what I’d do.” He lays a hand on Leonard’s shoulder and squeezes it. “But the decision has to be yours.”

Kirk releases Leonard and moves past him. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

“Jim,” he calls just before his friend can go too far.

Jim turns around.

Why not us? The question which clings to the tip of Leonard’s tongue shocks him, as it comes from seemingly nowhere. He reflexively swallows it down.

“Bones?”

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

“You’re welcome.”

It’s as simple as that. Jim never asks what Leonard is thanking him for because there is no need to. Over the years, they have come to know each other very well.

Leonard moves behind his desk to sit in his office chair when Kirk is gone, realizing that he has much more to ruminate upon than just what to do about Spock.

~~~

Days go by until a week, then nearly a week and a half, is over.

“You little…” mutters McCoy as he re-reads the missive in his inbox.

Apparently Jim’s insistence that Leonard has to make up his own mind comes with a deadline, and that deadline has passed. Kirk has even gone so far as to ‘cordially invite’ his second-in-command and senior medical officer to ‘a formal dining occasion’ in the captain’s quarters.

In other words, Jim is going to try to mash Leonard and Spock together like Barbie dolls and hope they stick.

Leonard is about to send a reply outlining to Jim in explicit detail what the fool can do with his meddling when a response from Spock pops into his inbox. Spock has very politely accepted the invitation, copying them both, and very pointedly mentioned that it would be a pleasure to dine in their company. Not just with Jim, the Vulcan is implying, but with Leonard as well.

Leonard purses his mouth and, some seconds later, erases his rude letter and replaces it with a single word. He hits send.

Whatever Jim and Spock might glean from his Okay, he tells himself he doesn’t care. He is only attending because he told Spock there would be no effect on their professional interaction. So far he has kept his promise.

And that’s what this will be, right? A work-related affair?

Leonard drops his head into one hand, having long since learned not to kid himself where Kirk is concerned. It’s only a matter before this little dinner turns into some insane scheme.

Ironically, Leonard discovers that he is looking forward to it.

~~~

The mood lighting of cabin is reminiscent of the restaurants which cater mostly to couples. The decorative roses and candles on the table are equally romantic, and the dinner itself had been unusually sumptuous.

Before they start dessert, Jim mysteriously disappears into his bathroom and does not return.

“Surprise,” Leonard mutters into his glass of whiskey.

Spock, twisted around at the waist and staring in the direction of the partition which separates the sleeping quarters from the main cabin, appears concerned. “It may be that he has had an accident, Doctor. Should we not check on him?”

“Bah. I can promise you, Spock, that little rascal has flown the coop.” Leonard waves his drink in the air. “But by all means, go ahead and check if it’ll make you feel better.”

Spock blinks at him. “You insinuate the Captain has escaped through my quarters.”

“Which is an invasion of privacy to be sure but Jim’ll justify it in his head. ‘For the greater good,'” Leonard quotes sarcastically and drains the rest of his drink. He coughs as it burns its way down to his stomach.

“You knew this would happen.”

Leonard coughs again and reaches for the whiskey bottle. “I know Jim.”

“Yes, it seems you do.”

Leonard glances up, pausing in the act of refilling his glass. “What’s that look for?”

Spock’s face clears. “To what do you refer, Doctor?”

Leonard rolls his eyes and decides if he’s going to have to tangle with Spock, he has to be sober. “You’re jealous,” he remarks. “Don’t be. Jim and I aren’t like that.”

Spock doesn’t deny the assessment. Instead he asks, “Why?”

That surprises Leonard. For a moment he toys with the idea of being completely honest.

“If you feel the matter is too personal, you need not answer.”

“No,” Leonard tells him, “it’s a reasonable question to ask, considering the circumstances. I just don’t have an answer for you.”

“I see.” Spock falls momentarily silent before stating, “You have been close with the Captain since you both entered the Academy.”

Leonard nearly smiles. “You might stay Jim is like a burr. Once attached, he’s painful to remove.”

“A strange, yet surprisingly apt analogy.”

Leonard settles back into his chair. “My turn to ask a question.”

The Vulcan inclines his head.

“What were you hoping for when you agreed to come tonight?”

“Must I state the obvious?”

Leonard does smile this time. “Isn’t that what you’re good at?”

Spock folds his hands in front of him. “Resolution. I am… disquieted by the fact that you are aware of my interest and yet there has been no positive or negative indication with regard to your willingness to accept it.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“And what have your thoughts led you to conclude?”

Leonard has the sudden urge to fidget, pinned as he is by Spock’s stare. He shouldn’t have given up that second drink. “It’s not that simple, Spock.”

“For me, it is a very simple matter. You return my interest, or you do not.”

“What if I told you that I have reservations? That, regardless of my interest, they impact my decision?”

“Then I would ask you to share your reservations with me.” Spock’s tone softens. “How can I effectively persuade you if I do not know against what you must be persuaded?”

Leonard swallows the lump trying to form in his throat. “You want that chance, don’t you?”

Spock nods.

Damn. The doctor closes his eyes, opens them again. “All right. Let’s start with the biggest hurdle, then.”

Leonard almost doesn’t have the courage to say it, but with Spock waiting so patiently for him to continue, in the end his sense of fairness wins out. “I think I might be in love with Jim.”

Spock does not recoil, doesn’t even blink. He just makes a thoughtful, “Hm.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask. What’re you thinking?”

Something new, similar to the spark which occurs when a hither-to unknown space anomaly has been discovered, comes into the Vulcan’s eyes. “Simply that I believe I am well-prepared for this argument, Dr. McCoy.”

This is the moment, Leonard would realize much later, that became their point of no return.

~~~

weeks later

The air smells of ozone, burnt plastic, and leaking fuel. Kirk’s phaser lets out a shriek as it discharges. Nearby, something crashes. A barrage of returned phaser fire takes out the part of the craft shielding what remains of the Enterprise’s landing party.

A voice, tense and strained, breaks Leonard’s concentration. “If we’re about to die, I’ve got to know, Bones.”

He growls, “What, Jim? Can’t you see I’m busy here?” The doctor is very busy, in fact, trying to staunch the open wound on a poor ensign who will soon realize his dire mistake in taking a commission aboard the Enterprise.

One weapon blast from the opposing camp shatters a large section of the cliffside above their heads.

Kirk returns fire. “That night… what happened between the two of you?”

Leonard shields his patient from falling pebbles and snaps, “Of all times, you have to ask that now?“

“Told you, gotta know before I die. Shit, where are these Klingons getting their extra ammunition?”

Leonard glances at the one busted communicator that could have gotten them out of the firefight and decides, yeah, they could actually die here. He sighs and says, “We worked things out. But that’s all I’m sayin’, okay? I don’t kiss and tell.”

Jim’s head whips around to look at him, blue eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. “You kissed Spock?”

The ensign groans.

Leonard swears and forcefully shoves Jim’s head back around. “Pay attention to them, not me, you dope!”

Jim hunkers down more firmly into his position. He sounds grimmer than ever when he declares, “You’ve given me a reason to live. I must know more.”

“When this is over, all you’ll get from me is a new psych eval, kid.”

“After the details, Bones—after the details.”

~~~

Kirk doesn’t get his details but they do survive.

Leonard absolutely hates it when he returns from missions gone awry unscathed. It inevitably means that someone was injured in his place. Point in case being the noodle-head he has to rush into surgery the moment they form on the transporter pad. He can’t even check if Spock, leading the missing half of their party, has been recovered from the surface as well.

He hears that Spock is mostly in one piece from M’Benga during Jim’s surgery.

“Thought you should know,” Geoff murmurs by his ear.

“Thanks,” Leonard answers gruffly. “Now hold this still for me, will you? If this idiot dies, it won’t matter if either of us survived.”

Geoff doesn’t question who the ‘us’ would be.

Nearly twenty hours later, Jim is breathing on his own again and Leonard has a different problem on his hands. He understands Spock’s concern for Kirk’s welfare. He truly does. But he is also not about to let that matter when Spock is a patient too.

“You’d better have a damn good reason for being in here,” he tells the wan-looking Vulcan, his own tiredness dampening some of the heat behind his words.

“How is he, Doctor?”

Leonard takes a brief look at the biobed monitor above Kirk’s unconscious head, just to affirm information he is already intimately familiar with. “I reported this to you earlier. He’ll come around by the end of tomorrow.”

Though Spock says nothing, the pinched skin around Spock’s eyes tells Leonard everything.

He relents a little, turning away and saying, “I’ll give you five minutes, then you’re on bed rest for the next twenty-four hours.” He removes himself from the small recovery room and leans against the wall just outside the closed door, arms folded across his chest and knees locked so he can stay upright.

Spock comes out of the room after precisely five minutes. “You will alert me if his condition changes.”

Leonard nods.

Silence stretches between them until Leonard moves to an outer ward where patients from the landing party with less critical injuries are being treated. The Vulcan stays quietly on his heels.

In the ward, Montgomery Scott is sitting up on a biobed, a regeneration cast on his left arm and a deck of cards spread out on his coverlet. Sulu is perched on the edge of Scott’s biobed, a bandage running the length of his collarbone mostly hidden beneath his tunic. Both men glance up as McCoy and Spock enter.

“The Captain?” they ask at the same time.

Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, Leonard reiterates what he told Spock. They seem satisfied with the brief update on Jim’s prognosis.

Too acutely aware of the Vulcan standing silently at his side, Leonard senses it when Spock sways ever-so-slightly on his feet. He takes a firm hold on Spock’s arm.

“I wasn’t kidding about the order for bed rest.” Inclining his head to Scotty and Sulu, he says politely, “Excuse us.”

Spock summons the energy to resist when Leonard pulls him towards the exit. “I protest this treatment. I am perfectly capable of working from—”

“Nonsense,” Leonard interrupts him. “I’m the doctor. What I say goes—unless you want me to follow you around with a hypospray like I have to do with your captain when he refuses to stay down.”

Spock’s mouth clicks shut.

“Thought so,” harrumphs McCoy, pleased to have won the argument. “C’mon, I’ll walk with you to your quarters.”

Scotty and Sulu exchange a look of significance as the pair retreats from the ward.

Sulu’s palm goes out. “Ten credits.”

Grudgingly, the engineer pays up.

~~~

a month later

The turbolift door whooshes softly shut as Leonard McCoy descends from the upper platform to take a place beside the command chair. He angles his body towards the Science station and fixes a sarcastic eye on the officer manning it.

As if aware of this scrutiny, Mr. Spock swivels around to face the doctor and raises one eyebrow.

From his chair, without observing the silent standoff, Captain Kirk chuckles to himself. “Warp factor three,” he tells the pilot at the helm good-naturedly.

Spock rises from his chair, then, and locks his hands behind his back as he joins them, flanking the opposite side of Kirk. “Doctor,” he remarks, “what brings you to the Bridge?”

“I have permission to be here,” McCoy rejoins quickly.

“Indeed.” Spock glances briefly at the top of Jim’s head. “Quite the deviation from the usual regulation concerning medical staff—but that was not my question.”

Jim lifts a hand, an unspoken command of Enough. He twists his head around to look at his chief surgeon. “Bones, something on your mind?”

The man opens his mouth as if to make a quick retort but shuts it again, frowning. Eventually he shakes his head. “Had a free moment” is his only explanation.

To both humans’ surprise, Spock says, “Excellent,” his gaze still fixed on McCoy. “I have a proposal for you.”

McCoy’s eyes widen slightly. “Proposal?”

“A work proposal,” Spock clarifies.

The doctor colors and sputters, “I knew that!”

Jim smirks at the ceiling.

Muttering about childish adults, the ship’s CMO lets his hand slide off the back of the command chair and starts for the turbolift, likely having decided it isn’t worth his pride to linger on the Bridge and be teased.

Spock turns to Jim. “Permission to leave the Bridge, Captain?”

McCoy twists around to stare at Spock again.

“Granted, Mr. Spock,” Jim replies. Then he winks at Leonard.

After a moment, Leonard snaps his mouth shut and directs a seething glare first to Kirk then to the Vulcan who calmly bypasses him en route to the turbolift. There Spock waits, expression never offering a glimpse of amusement or any other emotion beyond a twinkle in his dark eyes. Whether that twinkle is triumph or anticipation, in a Vulcan it would be difficult to tell.

Accepting his fate with an aggrieved sigh, the doctor joins Spock in the lift. Once the door hides them from the Bridge, his ire drops away but he complains nonetheless, “Could you be more obvious?”

“It is you who persists in displaying your emotions so openly.”

“At least I’m not the confused one. I didn’t come to the Bridge to pick you up, hobgoblin.”

The glint in Spock’s eyes is actually smugness. “Yet you have not rejected the pleasure of my company.”

Leonard looks to the ceiling. “Computer,” he demands, “hurry this lift up! I’m stuck in here with an insufferable Vulcan!”

Spock unlocks one of his hands and wordlessly holds out his forefinger and index finger.

With a grumble, another sigh, and an insincere statement of “I hate you”, Leonard’s fingers caress Spock’s.

Then he breaks contact, crosses his arms, and decides, “It’s time to do something about Jim.”

“Agreed.” Spock’s voice turns silky. “Should we enact our plan?”

Leonard smirks. “Darlin’, I thought you’d never ask.”

-Fini

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