Title: New Light to the Darkness (5/5)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: pre-Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: McCoy’s feelings don’t go unnoticed.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

In the darkness of his room, Leonard opens his eyes. The wall’s chronometer says he has too long to go before alpha shift. With a sigh, he shuts his eyes firmly again and wills himself to fall asleep.

Subject’s ranking: Commander. Origins: Vulcan. Species: Vulcan-Terran.

He lays a hand against his forehead in a futile effort to stop the replay.

Physical health: Functioning optimally.

McCoy rolls to his side and begs his brain, Please, enough already, but the brain is not listening, has not been listening since the lights of the bedroom went out some hours ago.

However unusual condition of subject persists as it relates the neurological; resulting psychological impact has yet to be determined. The condition derives from an incident of a most disturbing nature…

Leonard crumples his pillow under his head and groans into it.

The waking dream. To one who is in body as Vulcanian as I am, Spock had stated, switching from observer to subject, to relax the restraint of the mind is nearly impossible. It should not be. Therefore it becomes imperative to determine why I have broken from a discipline which has operated effectively for nearly twenty years. I begin this attempt at understanding the change in my behavior by examining the content of the aberration.

Finally giving in, Leonard opens his eyes and shucks off his bed covers to sit up. “Lights, forty percent.” His private cabin brightens in response.

Cpt. James T. Kirk and Dr. Leonard McCoy. While I was working on a particularly challenging application of a temporal paradox, I imagined them standing behind me on the Bridge when in fact neither man was in the vicinity. They gave no indication of wishing to converse, merely laid their hands upon my shoulders. I did not turn around.

Leonard drops his head into his hands as a sigh shudders out of him, experiencing an echo of the astonishment that had bloomed as Spock’s motive for assessing Jim and Leonard became clearer with each sentence.

My first sensation upon the end to this waking dream was one of great comfort; the second, resolution to finish my work. It was only then that I comprehended what had occurred. My subconscious mind, against the rigors set in place to control its impulses, brought forth this image to supplement an emotional need I was not aware of having. As there may be other factors in existence of which I am not presently cognizant, I am filled with many questions. What has caused this incident? What is the likelihood of reoccurrence? Is my weakened state a symptom of some greater concern?

Next to Leonard at the time they had been reading Spock’s report, Jim had murmured, “I know when this was, Bones. Spock came out of his chair suddenly that day, startling the rest of us. I asked him if anything was the matter, but he only gave me this blank stare before answering in the negative and returning to his seat. He didn’t speak to anyone for the remainder of that shift. I thought of calling you, but a hunch convinced me he wouldn’t want to share what was on his mind.”

Even if Spock had been willing to discuss what he deemed an aberration, Leonard would have been of no use to him. How could he when he could hardly make sense of the baseline norm for a healthy Vulcan?

But that Spock never considered he could ask for help in unraveling this mystery hurts Leonard too. One day he must convince Spock of his qualifications to attend to Spock’s medical and perhaps even psychological needs; to show Spock that he is more than a ‘witch doctor’ when it comes to treating a Vulcan.

Spock had written, unconcerned with such things as acquiring assistance for his problem, Logic decrees that an image not based in reality should be easily dismissed as irrelevant. Yet such a thing inspires these… pleasant feelings. Is this the basis of desire? As I continue to contemplate the matter more deeply, I become less certain of what I know. At this juncture, I can only propose to move forward in the manner in which I am accustomed, that of the scientific procedure necessary to make a discovery. Strategy, then, becomes imminent for identifying any correlations to the root cause in hopes to uncover the root cause itself. Within strategizing, assigning priorities to the addressing of my concerns.

Clearly one quandary ranks above the others. Of the many individuals who have supported me through personal hardship, why should I—Spock of Vulcan—dream of these two colleagues? An obvious answer would seem that I respect, in particular, Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy to the utmost of my capacity, that I trust them to command and care for the ship, the crew… myself. Yet, in the face of this logic, my discontent persists. It would seem I require another answer, though what form that answer must take remains elusive.

The supposition of that inquisitive Vulcan mind had continued on for two more pages until Leonard and Jim had been wide-eyed and nervous to meet the final statement of its lengthy introduction. It read, rather simply, Seeking the truth could be the preface to change. As one can only evolve by adapting, I shall endeavor to embrace the results of my discovery whatever those results may be.

“My god,” Leonard mutters now to the emptiness of his cabin as he had to Jim earlier, twisting the ring on his smallest finger round and round, “we’re in big trouble.”

~~~

Jim shows up in the morning Mess looking as tired as Leonard feels. When Leonard sidles up to him in the replicator line and says simply, “Captain,” Jim jumps like a cat with its tail beside a rocking chair.

Leonard catches the man’s arm and quickly draws him back into place, hoping no one else noticed. The last thing they need is someone tattling to the First Officer that the Captain seems off today.

“Bones,” Jim says, and his raspy voice is right in line with the dark circles under his eyes.

“Didn’t you sleep at all?” Leonard asks.

The man counters, “Did you?”

Leonard mutters under his breath about a traitorous brain. It had become too easily fascinated by the prospect of Spock, whose picture accompanies the definition of impersonal objectivity, undergoing the process of creating an emotional upheaval by choice. In the end, he thinks he passed out from sheer exhaustion for about an hour.

Jim, assuredly in a similar kind of stupor, haphazardly punches in codes to the replicator. By the time Leonard intervenes, the machine has already produced a plate of blueberry waffles, two fried chicken legs, an old style snack called a Twinkie, a pink gelatinous mass that must be a delicacy from a code section of the replicator that nobody should know, and one cup of coffee.

“At least you got the beverage right,” he says mournfully. “Recycle the rest.”

A complacent Kirk turns around with the tray and drops it onto the nearest table with a clatter. “Free food!” he calls, then proceeds to pick up the cup of coffee and find a back corner of the cafeteria, walking against the flow of people heading McCoy’s way to inspect their captain’s offerings.

Rolling his eyes ceiling-ward, Leonard places his order which mainly consists of food he can feed Jim and joins the man across the room. They huddle around their steaming coffee mugs and generally avoid looking each other in the eyes for the first few minutes of breakfast.

Jim’s gaze eventually ceases to meander elsewhere and finds Leonard’s. “I don’t think he’s coming.”

“No surprise there,” Leonard affirms. “I’d be more worried if the hobgoblin showed up and pretended he hadn’t just handed us his heart by way of a data padd.”

“Bones, you…” Jim begins, only to shake his head and close his mouth. He pulls one of Leonard’s plates over to his side of the table and picks up an extra spoon.

McCoy orders, “Eat all of that. Can’t have you fainting in front of your subordinates because you’re dismissive of your appetite.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Physician and friend,” Leonard corrects smoothly.

Jim glances up at him. “Is that all?”

Damn. The doctor has to look away, then, and clear his throat delicately. “So, do you have a plan?”

Jim stirs his spoon through the oatmeal several times before admitting, “No.”

“Then I guess it’s up to me.” Really, Leonard needs to learn when to stop volunteering for the hard jobs. He is making himself more nervous than he already is, and that in turn causes him to wonder how he will ever follow up with Spock without turning into a bumbling wreck. Only, the problem is it’s Spock who is in the worst position by all accounts, and so Leonard has to try to help him through it.

Somehow.

“Bones?”

He turns to face Jim. “What?”

“I said good luck.”

Leonard stares at him, then sighs and downs the rest of his coffee in one scalding go. “You know, kid, that doesn’t make me feel better.” He shoves his empty mug under Kirk’s nose. “More coffee.”

Jim takes it from him with a dry “Yes, dear,” and proceeds to retrieve a refill.

As Leonard watches him go, he acknowledges how grateful he is that they can be at ease with each other again. Trying to determine the destination of their collective fate has that effect, it seems.

Relentlessly as ever, his mind returns to that damn earth-shaking report. While Spock’s assessments of him and Jim had clearly been the methodical, unbiased rationale of a scientist, the analysis of Spock himself was anything but; it had given Leonard the impression of a man slowly peeling back the layers of his psyche, buoyed by the innocent curiosity of a child.

What lay at the core was Spock’s heart. Jim had suspected from the beginning where Spock would end up, but Leonard met the revelation ill-prepared. He recalls how, with a clear sense of wonder, Spock had written of this discovery so plainly:

I am fond of James T. Kirk and Leonard McCoy. Moreover, I am longing. Whether this emotion stems from another, such as loneliness, matters not. These men have become part of my perception of myself. To deny my need for them would be crueler than depriving my mind of stimulus. The solution: the pursuit of their affections, together or independently. Yet to consider one over the other begets malcontentment. Therefore considering them in equal measure, both belonging to me and I, belonging to them, is the harmony I seek.

There is one additional observation to consider. The objective will not be possible as envisioned, Spock had concluded, unless Jim and Leonard can maintain an equivalent harmony among themselves. To that end, I shall now focus my efforts. Proceeding is logical, for my well-being and theirs.

Ah, hobgoblin, McCoy thinks as Jim weaves his way back to him. If only I hadn’t assumed you wouldn’t recognize love.

“Your coffee, Doctor,” Jim demurs, holding out the cup to Leonard.

Leonard takes it, feeling a swell of emotions both for Jim who desperately wants a chance to love and for the missing companion who had recently mustered the courage to pursue it. A pang of sadness joins that bittersweet mix when Leonard finally admits that he may be the one too handicapped to join them.

Fear and courage—the two go hand-in-hand. Perhaps if Leonard allows himself to start small, simply, by addressing with Spock the part which roused his scientific curiosity, he can work up to the courage to lead with his heart. Such a starting point, at least, should be enough to let Spock know that Leonard is willing to consider the possibilities between them.

~~~

“Spock’s scheduled himself in Science for the day,” Jim warns Leonard before they part ways.

“Speaking of people making themselves scarce, Jim, when will we finish our talk? We didn’t leave ourselves in the best spot last night, you know.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jim assures McCoy. “If you want to talk, we’ll talk.” The man reaches over to pat the doctor’s shoulder, but the hand freezes midway as Kirk’s gaze lands on the wall chronometer.

Leonard sees the object of Kirk’s distraction and grins. “Looks like you’re late, Jim-boy. No way can you avoid her now,” he teases.

“Damn,” Kirk says succinctly. “Maybe I should come to Sickbay instead?”

Leonard gives his captain a push towards the nearest the turbolift. “Don’t be such a baby. Nyota doesn’t bite.”

“She doesn’t bite you,” Jim retorts. “She keeps closer tabs on me than my yeoman does. In fact, I think if Spock was willing to vacate his position as my First, she would nominate herself for it whether or not Command or I agreed.”

Leonard chortles now, because that’s the damn funniest thing he has heard in a while. “After the first time you handed over the conn, you’d never be able to take it back.”

“Precisely my point, Bones!”

Leonard just flaps a hand at Kirk, still laughing, and heads in the opposite direction. He intends to make a quick stop into the medbay before heading over to Science but the unfortunate timing of a mishap in Engineering involving one of Mr. Scott’s lads-in-training and a Jefferies Tube the kid wasn’t big enough to squeeze through keeps him occupied until a quarter past the start of beta shift. By then, Leonard is fighting a bout of grumpiness and a mild headache. He detours briefly to his office to pick up Spock’s PADD and slips out of Sickbay after seeing to it that the other staff members who worked alongside him in Engineering are handing their duties to someone else.

McCoy finds his quarry ensconced in a lab with one associate tech, a young woman whom Spock dismisses immediately upon taking note of the doctor’s arrival.

“Am I going to be interested in this?” Leonard asks as he circles a long counter where Spock is perched, peering at a set of partly filled test tubes.

The Vulcan remains preoccupied with calibrating an instrument in his hand. “You may be. Although,” Spock adds after a moment in an oddly offhand manner, “it is unlikely I am the appropriate person to judge your interests.”

Leonard isn’t certain if another meaning is intended by that statement or not. He counters with the truth. “You would be a better guesser than most.”

Spock raises his head, then, to stare at Leonard.

Leonard clarifies, “We’re both scientists on a vessel where the definition of strange is synonymous with normal. Whatever interests you, Spock, is likely to interest me too.”

“And what interest has brought you here, Dr. McCoy?”

“I have something to return to you.” Leonard lays down the mini-PADD on the counter between them, which Spock makes no move to take back. “I promised you my thoughts, Commander. Well,” he discloses quickly, “like any scientist worth his salt, I want to ask questions of my own before I offer an expert opinion on the matter.”

Spock’s tense shoulders relax into a more neutral pose. “Proceed.”

Leonard jokes as he positions a free stool across from Spock, “You Vulcans are so tight-lipped about your biology—especially you—that I thought I must have uncovered a city of gold when I started on that overview of your medical history, pre-Starfleet.”

“Doctor, you are fully aware any such myth about the Earth’s mysterious city of gold has been scientifically disproven for nearly two centuries.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Spock.” McCoy crosses his arms over his chest and drawls, “As I was sayin’, here I believed I had discovered some riches of untold portions when it turns out what meager information you did share in that overview was only to stress the fact that you didn’t like that you had a daydream.”

“A daydream, Doctor, is not an insignificant matter to a—”

“Vulcan,” Leonard finishes. “Uh-huh. But you know what I found really interesting, Spock? It wasn’t your first daydream, was it?”

Spock blinks. “How… astute of you to infer that particular conclusion.”

Leonard bristles. “Are you trying to insult me by saying you assumed I couldn’t read between the lines?”

Spock tilts his head ever-so-slightly. “On the contrary, I am complimenting you for your insight.”

Leonard purses his mouth, not certain whether or not he should be mollified. Then he dismisses his feeling to continue, because something is really bothering him. “I gathered the academic institute you mentioned attending as a child is the Vulcan Science Academy. How does the VSA relate to your condition?”

“Will this information be made public?”

“Of course not.”

“I am a product of cross-breeding. A… genetic phenomenon, if you will. My existence has been and always shall be a curiosity to those of purely Vulcan ancestry.”

Leonard is appalled. “Spock, you’re not some experiment! Your parents made you out of love.”

“Regardless of their desire to procreate, there was a period in which my father and mother did not know if a child between them was possible. Science assisted my parents in my conception, Doctor. In return, they were required to allow bi-annual studies of my development from infancy to pre-adolescence.”

“How long would that be?”

“Fifteen years.”

“My god,” Leonard says softly. “Spock… that’s awful.” Is that why Spock is always prickly during physical examinations? Is he reminded too much of being poked and prodded by VSA specialists for the duration of his childhood?

“I have no feelings on the matter.”

Hogwash! thinks Leonard. But now isn’t the time to challenge Spock’s claim—or lack thereof—concerning the ramifications of undergoing an examination without consent.

No doubt recognizing how little Leonard is mollified, Spock goes on to add, “At Mother’s insistence, we ceased our appointments with the VSA in my eighth year. However, I had already asked my father for assistance in rectifying the issue of… daydreaming… by focusing my training on the discipline required for metacognition. At that time I had no desire to be unique from my peers.”

“You were ashamed,” Leonard supplies in a gentler tone.

Spock returns his gaze to the scientific instrument in his hands. “I perceived myself to be weaker.”

“Spock,” Leonard says, feeling a tug of compassion, “in this galaxy, there’s a mathematical probability of three million Earth-type planets. And in all the universe, three million galaxies like this. And in all of that, and perhaps more, one of each of us.*”

Spock adopts a faintly amused air of challenge. “I believe we have proven two variations of the same person can exist in one universe.”

“Ah, but you just said it yourself: the Ambassador is a variation. He is the product of his own experiences and has his own place—even if that place ended up being in our universe for a time. My point is we’re meant to be unique. Don’t destroy who you are simply because it’s not in keeping with the person others think you should be.”

“Does this mean you accept me as a being of logic?”

“Not a chance,” Leonard objects promptly, “because now I know there’s definitely something human in you beneath all that stuffy claptrap. My mission in life must be to see to it that you appreciate all your heritage.”

Spock raises an eyebrow. “You may try.”

Leonard grins. He rocks forward on his stool in lieu of bouncing on the balls of his feet.

The laboratory door slides open. It’s the tech, wanting to know if she can come back in. Behind her is a far more familiar face who waits for no invitation.

“Spock,” their captain calls, aggrieved, as he strides into the lab, “how could you be so cruel to leave me alone with Lt. Uhu—” He stops, then, looks between Spock and McCoy. “Am I interrupting?”

“Excellent timing, Captain. Dr. McCoy has, I perceive, insulted me to his satisfaction. Please escort him back to Sickbay now.”

Leonard abandons his stool with a harrumph. He isn’t one to hang around when he isn’t wanted. “C’mon, Jim. Let Spock mind the store for you.”

Jim turns with a slight shrug turns and follows McCoy back into the corridor. “Sorry, Bones. I didn’t mean to keep you two from your… chat,” he insists in a contrite tone. “I assumed you had been to see Spock by now.”

Leonard glances knowingly at Kirk. “In other words, you decided to come along and check on him.”

The guilty-faced man doesn’t deny the accusation, saying instead, “Well, I really didn’t want to stay on the Bridge with Uhura.” He looks around surreptitiously, then lowers his voice. “Do you think she knows? Because I could swear I am being judged for some dumb-witted action—or inaction.”

“Jim, there are any number of dumb-witted things you’re capable of doing. That doesn’t narrow down the list much.”

Jim frowns. “But why is it only me she stares at like that?”

“No idea,” Leonard answers sincerely. All he knows is that if Uhura decided to treat him the same, every ounce of courage he has would shrivel up. Though she may no longer be dating Spock, everyone knows the woman has no qualms slapping down someone she feels isn’t treating her ex with the respect he deserves.

And right now, Leonard accepts, he needs his courage to determine what must come next.

Looking at Jim, he thinks he has an inkling as to that next step. “A drink,” he says, seemingly out of nowhere. “How about a drink?”

Jim dips his head. “Your quarters or mine?”

“Mine,” McCoy decides, and they head that way.

~~~

Leonard bypasses the living area to unearth a rare treat from his personal cabinet, a gourd-shaped bottle of amber liquid he had been stowed there when his previous attempt to share it with Jim hadn’t come to pass. Since that bourbon couldn’t be needed more than the present, he supposes the proper occasion has arrived.

Jim comes as far as the partition between the bedroom and the main cabin, leaning there in silence to observe McCoy.

“You know, Jim, it’s funny you should mention that feeling you get with Uhura staring a hole into the back of your head,” he begins awkwardly, careful to avoid looking at the man he is talking to. “There’s a saying my grandmother often used which comes to mind: ‘if that boy had an idea, it would die of loneliness.’ Well,” he confesses, “I must be that boy. I feel like the world’s greatest idiot.”

“Why?”

“A Vulcan figured out how I felt before I did.”

“What we can see in others we are often blind to in ourselves.”

Leonard looks sidelong at his friend. “You weren’t oblivious.”

“No,” Jim agrees, pushing away from the partition to approach him. “I’ve known what I wanted for a while now.”

“Spock,” he surmises softly, turning back to the bourbon and removing the bottle’s cork. “No surprise there. You two make a good team.”

A hand settles on McCoy’s shoulder, slides around to the middle of his back. Jim asks, “Don’t we make a good team too, Bones?”

“Well, I don’t know about team—”

Jim takes the bottle out of Leonard’s hands and sets it aside. Then he turns Leonard to face him. “Forget Spock for a minute. This is about us.”

Here’s your chance, McCoy. Show your courage. But he finds himself arguing instead, “Spock’s proposal concerns more than you and me, Jim.”

“Exactly. None of us moves forward if there isn’t a you and me.” His gaze searches McCoy’s. “Could you love me, Bones?”

“Fool.” Leonard’s voice cracks. “You don’t even know how much I love you.”

Kirk’s grip tightens on his shoulders. “Say it. As a friend or…?”

“I told you. Who’s the bigger idiot between the two of us? I am. So stupid for falling in love with my best friend and not even recognizing it.”

Jim jerks him forward into a hug. In response, Leonard locks his arms around the man’s back and turns his face into Jim’s neck.

“Thank you,” Jim says, and his voice breaks too, just momentarily, as if overwhelmed. “Bones, thank you.”

“Stop cracking my ribs,” McCoy mumbles the complaint, not actually minding the tightness of their embrace at all.

When they finally let go of each other, a beat of silence ensues. Then, because confessing the sincerity of their feelings for one another is only half the problem, Leonard sighs and asks, “What do we do about Spock?”

Jim runs a thumb across the curve of McCoy’s cheek. “I won’t be a fool over this anymore. No more hiding. No more… longing.” He swallows hard. “I want Spock as much as I want you.”

“And if I don’t know how I feel about Spock?”

Jim’s tone turns graver. “Would you be willing to figure it out?”

Leonard sighs again, sagging slightly towards his friend. “I already made that promise.” And he means to keep it, especially now that he knows that he will be the one to break Spock’s heart if he isn’t careful.

“Jim,” he says, “no matter what comes of this, I won’t stand in your way if you decide to accept Spock on your own. We’ll find a way to make it work for all of us.”

Jim releases a quiet, relieved breath but resolves nonetheless, “Together, Bones, or not at all.”

Leonard finds that worrisome. “Are you sure?”

Jim brings their foreheads together. “It would hurt too much to only have one of you and not the other.”

He may not envision their future the way Jim does, but he can place his faith in Jim to make it possible. That’s why Jim is his captain, after all. “All right.”

Jim brushes his mouth against Leonard’s, the motion gentle, undemanding.

Damn it, thinks McCoy, now he owes Spock much more than a fair chance. Spock has given him this. Jim.

“The bourbon,” he murmurs the reminder against the other man’s mouth.

Jim pulls back with an air of amused resignation. “Do we need it now?”

“I do,” Leonard replies, feeling a blush crawl up his neck. “I refuse to consider what kissing Spock would be like while sober.”

Jim offers him the entire bottle. “Then drink up.”

~~~

Leonard must look an awful sight, for the entirety of his staff is staring at him like he has grown a second head. Of course, they have reason to stare as this is the first time he has overslept for a staff meeting since accepting the commission of CMO aboard the Enterprise. The fault for his tardiness is that damn bottle of bourbon; with Jim chaperoning, Leonard had let himself enjoy a good portion of it. He has a vague recollection of Jim tucking him in afterwards and setting out a hangover hypospray on the night stand next to his bed; otherwise the time between his first drink and when he finally dozed off is largely a blur. There’s this niggling feeling that something important happened in that interim, but Leonard decides he can live without knowing what it is for the time being.

Thank goodness that being the department head means McCoy isn’t required to explain to his staff why he is so groggy, poorly shaven, and unprepared. Knowing some of them, like him, don’t give a rat’s ass about order of rank, he settles on an intense glare to ward off any potentially nosy questions.

One unimpressed staff members taps her stylus against the data padd in the crook of her arm. “Should we proceed, Dr. McCoy?”

He waves his hand and lets the Head Nurse take command of the briefing. Their conference lasts less than twenty minutes, with Leonard nodding in time to some of the remarks from various individuals but mostly trying to prevent himself from turning into an incoherent puddle in his chair. Either the standard hangover medication needs to be reformulated, or he had way more to drink than he originally guessed.

Probably should ask Jim, he notes to himself.

“That will be all,” the Head Nurse finishes, looking to her superior.

With nothing to add, he agrees. “Dismissed.”

Everyone files out of the meeting room except his second-in-command, but she only stays long enough to remark, too casually, “Commander Spock is waiting in your office.”

Leonard nearly topples out of his chair. “What?”

“Oh, he’s been there for a while,” the woman adds on her way through the door.

Leonard’s face burns with embarrassment as he hurries through the med bay. Damn it! Of all the days to be late and hung-over!

Leonard nearly trips over himself as he bursts into the CMO’s office, but Spock barely acknowledges his sudden appearance, for the Vulcan is entranced by the PADD in his lap.

A few seconds pass. “Commander!” Leonard snaps, going from fumbling man to irritated coworker.

Spock looks up, blinking placidly. “Greetings, Dr. McCoy.”

Leonard steps toward him. “What’s the matter?”

The Vulcan raises an eyebrow. “Must there be a concern for me to visit you?”

Taken aback, Leonard chews on that for a moment. “I guess not… but that doesn’t mean you can help yourself to another man’s office whenever you feel like it.”

Spock’s other eyebrow goes up. “Sound advice, Lieutenant-Commander—in the event, that is, the one giving the advice also intends to follow it.”

Flushing at the reminder of his previous transgressions, McCoy moves to the other side of his desk. He has the impression Spock is silently laughing at him. “I have work to do.”

“I would like to discuss the document you sent me yesterday evening.”

Leonard freezes in the act of sitting down. “What document?”

Spock tilts his head. “Your analysis, Dr. McCoy, of our suitability and attraction.”

It’s a small mercy that Leonard doesn’t miss his chair altogether when his knees give out. “C-Come again?”

Spock locks his fingers together and recites, “If one had to choose a part based on visual appeal and arousal, it would be the ears. Those damn pointed ears. Kind of fancy them.“

The pounding in Leonard’s own ears must be his blood pressure rising… or his heart trying to bust out of his chest.

“Reduced attraction rating for the sass in between the ears. Remedy: I want the last word sometimes. It’s not fair otherwise. Addendum: Solution seconded by James Tiberius Kirk.” Spock pauses. “Assuming, of course, the initials JTK are to be interpreted as such.”

Bones, Leonard hears in his head, a memory surfacing from those missing hours, what a great idea! But hold on, we should write this down.

Oh no. He hadn’t. They hadn’t.

Spock’s expression, per usual, lacks guile

“Dear god…” Leonard covers his eyes with a hand. They had.

There comes the sound of an object connecting with the surface of his desk. McCoy opens his eyes to discover that Spock has pushed his data padd across the desk. The screen is open to the report, dispersing the last vestiges of hope that it doesn’t really exist.

The opening statement reads, This analysis as dictated by Dr. Leonard McCoy and transcribed by Cpt. James T. Kirk evaluates the subject Cmdr. Spock of Vulcan with the objective of determining the reasonableness of accepting his proposal.

“I didn’t,” Leonard fumbles, “I mean, I wasn’t in my right mind when we did this, Spock.”

“That much is apparent, Dr. McCoy. The ebb and flow of the narrative is highly emotional, even by the standards I normally associate with you.”

“Then you can’t—”

Spock interrupts, “There are several salient points, nonetheless. For instance: Overall efficiency of the proposition supported by consistent companionship throughout years of service. Some of those times have been the best of our lives—and the worst times made bearable by being together.”

Leonard tries again. “Spock…”

“Qualities lending to the positive: intelligent, steadfast, nearly unbreakable under pressure. Thank you for the compliments, Doctor. Similarly I was impressed by the astuteness of this next observation: Could not handle Jim alone. Another partner becomes necessary. At least this one has more common sense. Jim, of course, made a comment following that statement which you may read for yourself.”

Spock didn’t come here to toss Jim and Leonard’s report back at them as laughable trash; no, the Vulcan wants to praise them in his own way for adopting the same strategy. More than that, Leonard can tell that Spock is extremely pleased by the results of their assessment.

He’s out of his Vulcan mind.

Leonard presses the comm console next to his computer. “McCoy to Bridge.”

“Bridge acknowledging.”

“I need the Captain to come to my office.”

Jim’s voice overrides Uhura’s. “On my way, Bones.”

Spock has paused his recitation of the highlights of the report to consider Leonard thoughtfully. “The Captain may have other duties to attend at this moment.”

No way in hell is Leonard taking responsibility for this catastrophe by himself. “Equality, remember?”

The Vulcan inclines his head ever-so-slightly. “Very well.”

Leonard spends the next few minutes skimming the document that his (once again) traitorous brain concocted in a drunken stupor. Halfway through it, he can’t take anymore. It is highly emotional—and pretty damned honest. Apparently when uninhibited, Leonard has no problems coming up with a detailed proposal of why he should date Spock. Most of the language is his, with a few colorful anecdotes in parentheses by Jim.

He has decided to crawl under his desk and hide there when the office door slides open to admit one Jim Kirk, preceded by “Bones, you needed me?”

Mortification transforms into temper which in turn becomes outrage at the sight of the person who let Leonard throw himself under the proverbial bus (that bus being the giant green-blooded pain in the ass refusing to budge from his office). Leonard bursts out with “You!”

Kirk freezes in the doorway.

Coming out of his chair with the intention of giving his captain a sound thrashing for letting him do something so dumb as document his infatuation with another man’s ears, Leonard forgets to anticipate that said infatuation might try to stop him.

He smacks into Spock’s chest, who had risen quickly from his chair to bar Leonard’s path. Jim, obviously reacting on instinct, shifts to shield himself more fully with his First Officer’s body.

“Jim,” Leonard snarls, “get over here!”

“Doctor, please calm yourself.”

“Oh, I am calm, Mr. Spock. So calm the jury will have no trouble believing I premeditated the murder of my captain!”

“Bones, why are you mad at me?”

“You sent it to him!”

Jim’s face lights up. “You remember? I wasn’t sure that you would.”

“You sent it to him!” Leonard yells again, because apparently Jim isn’t getting the memo about his failure as a confidante and friend.

“Of course I did,” Jim says. “You insisted.”

“You sent—w-what!” Leonard nearly bites his tongue in his surprise.

Jim leans around Spock. “You practically ordered me to send it, Bones.”

“But…”

Jim looks to Spock. “He said he was afraid he would lose his courage otherwise.”

“Leonard can be very brave when the occasion calls for it,” Spock agrees solemnly.

Leonard chokes and turns away. There’s no way… but Jim isn’t lying. That much is obvious.

“Bones?”

“Give me a second.”

A hand takes his arm, turns him gently around again. It’s Jim, daring to comfort him despite the possibility that his temper could still be running hot.

But Leonard hasn’t the heart to be angry anymore. He is embarrassed, upset at himself, and even a little scared. “Jim…”

“I know,” Jim murmurs, sliding his hand up McCoy’s arm to squeeze his shoulder. “But you weren’t as drunk as you think. You said what you meant, and that’s what I wrote. The alcohol just made it easier to speak up.”

“Confess, you mean.”

Jim smiles a little. “Some of it was a confession, yes. That part about the ears—” He leans to whisper, “—a part I agree with by the way—”

“Thank you, Jim,” Spock chimes in.

Jim winks at Leonard, ignoring the Vulcan. “—but mostly I think you just needed the push to analyze the potential there without some part of you second-guessing yourself. I understand that, Bones, because I have spent the last year trying to curb every desire which came to mind whenever I thought of you two. It didn’t matter if it was the desire to spend time with you as a friend. I would think, Do I have the right when I feel more? Could my greed ruin our friendship? The doubt, and always trying to be cautious, nearly undid me.”

Leonard covers Jim’s hand with his own. “Our friendship is safe, Jim.”

“Easy to say, Bones, harder to believe it.”

Leonard rallies. “Then I’ll help you believe it. What do you need? A blood oath? Spock, this is no time to exclude yourself. Help me think up something!”

Silence.

Kirk and McCoy blink at each other, then turn as one. With his PADD in hand, the Vulcan is busy reading again.

Flabbergasted, Jim says, “Spock?”

Leonard huffs. “I can’t believe it. After everything, he isn’t paying attention. Hell, the way Spock’s pouring over that silly thing, you would think we had written him a love sonnet!”

Jim’s head whips back to McCoy, eyes wider than before.

Leonard stares back. “What?”

“Bones, I think you’re right.”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out.

Jim breaks into a grin, then, looking more pleased than Leonard has ever seen him. “What do you know… We discovered how to woo a Vulcan.”

Leonard’s difficulty in forming words doesn’t matter anyway. Spock breaks into the stunned silence with the distracted murmur, “This final figure, 99.98% compatibility… Not entirely the correct calculation as I estimate the ratio to be 99.998%, but to borrow a phrase, close enough.” His dark eyes are shining as he looks up. “Doctor, Captain… This assessment is an admirable first attempt. However, I believe I should assist you in the practice of your analytical skills.”

Jim not-so-subtly elbows Leonard.

Leonard blurts out, “Sounds great, Spock,” all the while wondering exactly what he has gotten himself into.

Spock continues with an emphasis that nearly resembles cheerfulness, “Excellent. I propose we conduct a predicative data analysis with the purpose of optimizing the stages of our courtship. For instance, based on the intel gathered from this report, I predict our first date should occur within the next three solar days.”

“Make it one,” Jim advises. “I started the next part of the experiment ahead of you.”

Leonard just wordlessly leans into Jim while Jim hooks an arm around his waist.

“Indeed?” Coming to stand before them, Spock appears very interested to learn of this news.

“Bones,” Jim questions, also in good humor, “how do you feel about a romantic dinner under the stars?”

“Sounds like you’re gonna give me the opportunity to find out.”

“A very logical assumption, Doctor,” Spock says approvingly. Then, “Shall I escort you both to the cafeteria for the midday meal?”

“It’s not lunch for hours yet,” Leonard protests, but Jim is already pushing him into the corridor. Accepting his fate, Leonard only digs in his heels long enough to drawl to the human and Vulcan at his back, “I’m not doin’ all the work in this relationship, y’hear? Y’all better learn how to woo an old country doctor too.”

“Good company, good food, good liquor,” Jim replies immediately.

“And,” Spock adds sagely, “honesty.”

Well, damn, decides Leonard. His brain didn’t make up that 99.98% compatibility ratio after all.

Somehow he just isn’t surprised.

The End

Footnote: * – dialogue from TOS episode Balance of Terror; McCoy actually said this very thing to his captain, adding at the end, “Don’t destroy the one named Kirk.” It seemed like the kind of advice Leonard would give Spock too.

Related Posts:

• New Light to the Darkness (4/5) – from October 26, 2016
• New Light to the Darkness (3/4) – from October 6, 2016
• New Light to the Darkness (1/4) – from September 19, 2016

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