Title: What We Feel (8/?)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Pairing: pre-Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: Spock asks Jim and Leonard to consider their future together.
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Part Eight

Spock is less than surprised to turn and see Jim entering into the main area of the brig, grim-faced and reasonably alert. He also knows it would be futile to ask why the man is not resting through the lingering effects of inhaling anaesthesic gas. A leader such as James T. Kirk cannot be persuaded to “step aside” while those under his care remain in danger; yet, it is fascinating that Jim had made a snap decision to relinquish command of the Enterprise to the First Officer. Was it a tactic based on Jim’s faith in Spock, or was it simply that the human did not wish to choose between his ship and the life of Leonard McCoy?

Spock does not know the answer but he keeps that question in the forefront of his mind so that when an opportunity arises, he may ask it.

At the moment, however, focusing on the safety of the Enterprise takes precedence.

Jim comes to stand beside the Vulcan. “What have we learned about our new friends, Mr. Spock?”

Spock would never use the term “friend” to describe these ruthless creatures. Were Spock younger and less knowledgeable of most humans’ penchant for strange humor he would have balked at that question. Thankfully Spock has learned a great deal over the years, and he accepts Jim’s inquiry and the sarcasm in which it was spoken.

He responds truthfully, as always. “The interrogation has not born much fruit, Captain. We have ascertained that they wished to commandeer the Enterprise—”

“—something we already knew,” comments Kirk.

Spock says quickly, “Affirmative. But they will not speak of their vessel. It is likely the force used against us was a diversion; hence, the Enterprise was successfully infiltrated while otherwise occupied.”

Jim crosses his arms; Spock has a brief vision of Doctor McCoy in place of Jim and he pushes that strange feeling aside. The Captain is talking. “Two questions remain then, Mr. Spock: where is the ship which has undoubtedly been tracking us; and more importantly, what signal are they waiting for?”

Excellent queries. Yet without the answers, Spock and Jim cannot make plans for a counterattack. He offers, “We will continue to question them, Captain.” The Vulcan pauses, on the edge of an additional remark.

Jim seems to understand what his pause means. “I wouldn’t ask that of you, Spock. We may be wading through a danger zone, but no one—no one on my watch—will be asked to compromise his principles in order to survive.”

“Jim,” Spock turns to the human. “You have my gratitude for your understanding; it would be a grave matter should I attempt to take information from their minds by force—for it will not be freely given. However, were the circumstances to change and the action deemed necessary, I will do what I must.”

The man nods, knowing that Spock speaks candidly. “Then we will hope, Mr. Spock, such circumstances will not come to pass.”

They discuss for some minutes the trajectory of the Enterprise and the best route to the nearest starbase. It becomes apparent to both officers, after observation, that the enemy under lock and key is less worried about their captivity than they should be. Jim rubs at the back of his neck and mutters the words “red alert.” Though Spock does not remark upon this action, he tightens his hands clasped behind his back. He has learned through many years of working beside this human that Jim’s intuition is rarely wrong.

Then Jim sighs. “Walk with me, Spock?”

He inclines his head in agreement. The pair exits the brig area, then the Security sector. Spock allows Jim to lead, and the man takes them in a slow, circular pattern about the deck of the ship. After a lengthy silence, Kirk halts in mid-step and Spock automatically stills as Kirk faces him.

“Spock, I would ask you to give me an honest answer but I know that you will. Instead,” Jim says to the Vulcan, “I need your word that you won’t sidestep me.”

“Sidestep, Captain? I am unfamiliar with this term.”

“It means that you will answer the question directly and not…” Kirk searches for words. His face brightens then, an indication that the man has found them. “And not respond as your father would when negotiating with Tellarites.”

Spock takes three seconds to consider Sarek’s behavior during a diplomatic meeting of races. He looks at Jim, lifting his eyebrows, and replies, “I believe that I understand, Jim. I will not… sidestep our discussion.”

“Wonderful!” Yet just as quickly as the light comes into Jim’s face, it disappears. “If Bones had died, how much would his death hurt you?” Spock is asked bluntly.

The Vulcan now understands why Kirk wants to prevent Spock’s initial response—because Spock’s treacherous brain immediately tries to skip answering the question altogether. Which should be illogical.

He says slowly, “Doctor M’Benga has verified that Doctor McCoy is not permanently harmed. There is no pertinence to that question, Jim.”

“Sidestepping,” warns his companion. “It’s a hypothetical question. The answer isn’t a difficult one, Mr. Spock. How much pain would you feel if we had to place McCoy’s remains into a casket and launch it into space?” When Spock does not immediately answer, Jim says more softly—almost kindly, like Spock is being offered a boon, “Picture it for a moment.”

He is unable to do otherwise. “I would lament Leonard’s death,” he answers heavily, feeling the blossom of grief already.

Jim visibly swallows. “We lament most deaths, Spock—for a friend, a parent, someone close or someone not as close, such as the two officers who gave their lives on our last mission. But we mourn for those we love more than we love ourselves. I would mourn, Spock, because Bones is part of me, here, in my heart.” The human presses a fist against his own breastbone. “And more than that, I would mourn for all the moments that I didn’t get to have with him.” Jim inhales deeply, takes a step back to increase the distance between them. His gaze is steady on Spock. “Which is why I won’t wait for you.”

Spock is uncertain of how to respond, is uncertain of how he wants to respond. He settles for a nod and a brief “I understand.”

Jim nods in return. “I owe you for you’ve done for me, for Bones and me. I know I would have never admitted my feelings if you had not asked me to. Thank you for that.”

“Is this all you wished to speak to me of, Jim?” he asks quietly.

“Yes.”

“Then, with your permission, I will return to the Bridge.” Jim does not withhold permission, so Spock turns around and heads to the closest turbolift.

Jim’s voice rings out, calling his name. “Spock!”

He stops, looks back at his Captain. “Yes, Jim?”

Jim says, shoulders back and posture serious, “Don’t think we don’t want you, Spock—because we do. When you are ready, we’ll be here.”

“Ready?” he repeats, uncomprehending.

Jim smiles. “To love, Spock. It is not the same thing as knowing that you can love.”

Spock watches, silent, as Kirk turns in the opposite direction and walks away.

~~~
before…

The Vulcan is aware that he has company before the doctor is close enough to announce his presence. Spock has already disengaged the recorder on his computer by the time McCoy settles in a chair across his desk in his laboratory office.

Spock stills the movements of his hands over a PADD, looks at the human, and asks, “How may I assist you, Doctor McCoy?”

“Well,” drawls the doctor good-naturedly, “you can assist me in assisting you.”

Spock lets the height of his eyebrow show his intrigue. “I was not aware that I require assistance.”

“That’s because you’d rather chew rocks than admit that you could do with a little hand-holdin’.”

Spock carefully sorts through that statement and files it away in his brain for later inspection. (It is highly possible he will require the use of a computer when that inspection is resumed.) The Vulcan answers the only part which makes the most sense. “Vulcans do not engage in ‘hand-holding.'”

“Oh yeah? Then was I hallucinating the affection between your mother and father when they were last here?”

Spock tries valiantly to fight down the suffusion of blood to his face. “That… is not hand-holding, Doctor. It is customary for two mated individuals to…”

McCoy laughs in the middle of his explanation and Spock is surprisingly grateful he does not need to finish describing such an intimate part of Vulcan bonding rituals.

“Why, the tips of your ears are dark green, Spock!” The man grins and leans forward. “Do you know how many females aboard this ship would find that utterly adorable?”

“I do not,” he replies blandly.

McCoy seems to catch his next words and change his mind. The doctor sighs softly. “Don’t worry, I did not come here to tease you.”

“Did you not?”

“No,” answers McCoy too seriously. “I wanted to talk to you about…”

At the man’s hesitation, Spock stiffens on instinct.

“…Zarabeth,” the doctor concludes in a gentle voice.

“There is nothing to discuss.”

“Isn’t there? Spock—”

“No,” he says implacably. “When I asked that you hold those events in confidence, Doctor, I did not intend to speak of the matter again.”

“Just because you don’t want me to tell anyone—which why does that include Jim, by the way?—doesn’t mean I’ll keep silent about it with you.”

His answer is somewhat of a shock to himself. “I wish that you would.”

Leonard stares at him for too long. “Why? Are you ashamed?”

“There is no shame in my response to a situation I could not control.”

“Not what I meant, Spock,” the doctor tells him. “I meant, are you ashamed that it was Zarabeth that you wanted?”

He does not understand.

McCoy sighs again, more heavily this time. “I like to think that you, given your human mother and Vulcan father, know that ‘love as thou wilt’ is about as true as truth can get. Does it matter that Zarabeth wasn’t Vulcan?” As if asking himself more than Spock, Leonard ponders, “It was your visceral nature, stripped bare, which saw her as a suitable companion—doesn’t that count for something, Spock?”

He considers his reply for a moment. “I do not deny what I felt. As you have stated, there can be a certain… compatibility between two members of different races.”

Leonard nods. “Then what’s got you so upset about what happened?”

Spock does not bother to ask why the doctor thinks the First Officer is upset. However, he does contemplate the question—and its answer startles him. “The emotion was remarkably intense.”

“The rage?”

“Love,” he clarifies simply. “It was sudden.” He voices a doubt that he has had for some time but did not acknowledge until now. “Perhaps it was… disingenuous.”

But the doctor is shaking his head. “Love is what it is, Spock, no matter how quickly it ails you or how fierce its hold. You once told me that Vulcans feel too deeply. So I’d say what you felt was about right. An emotion—a strong emotion like love—is liable to floor an average man on a good day. You got hit by a shuttle-load! It’s okay,” Leonard says with a rueful smile, “you’re no more confused than I would be if I were in your shoes.”

He blinks. “I appreciate your honesty.”

Leonard reaches over the desk and pats his forearm. “If you need help finding closure about her—about anything that happened down there—I want you to tell me, a’right? This ship’s counseling department may be slim pickings but there is help available. No one will think unkindly of you, for needing a bit of guidance.”

The idea does not exactly comfort Spock. He says instead, to appease them both, “Should I need to reflect further on the matter, I will seek your advice, Doctor McCoy.”

Leonard’s mouth curves at the corners. “Works for me. I’ll see you later, then?”

“Affirmative.”

The doctor stands up, bright blue eyes still fixed firmly on the Vulcan’s face. “Don’t forget your promise.”

Spock replies, “I shall not.”

~~~

Leonard wakes to the feel of a wet cloth on his face. He makes a noise of protest, and barely opens one eye. Thank God the room is dark.

Jim is sitting at his bedside, holding a washcloth in his hand and looking sheepish.

McCoy mumbles, “Why’d you stop?”

“You’re awake.”

“So? Last time I got a free sponge bath—” His brain finally wakes up. “Jim?”

The grinning man leans over into view so that McCoy doesn’t have to twist his head in order to look at him. “I believe you were telling me about a sponge bath, Bones.”

Damn his runaway mouth! “Never mind that.”

Jim gets an expression which means fine, I won’t mention it… for a while.

Leonard’s groan is heartfelt. Jim, bless his heart, thinks the sound indicates that McCoy needs some more pain medication. The drowsy man waves the pill away. “Don’t need it. I’m doing fine. And since when are you one of my nurses?”

Jim talks as he sets the glass of water back on the nightstand and drops the pill back into its bottle. “Since you demanded to be released from Sickbay. Someone had to vouch for your care, Bones. Or don’t you remember that part?”

He does. And he remembers being secretly pleased that Jim had volunteered and placated Christine on Leonard’s behalf.

His body is nice and comfortable where it is, feels heavy. “Is it time to get up?”

“No,” says Kirk from somewhere else in the room, his voice floating back to McCoy. “It’s time to go back to sleep.”

“Mmhm,” agrees Leonard lazily. He opens his eyes (not realizing they had closed) when a weight settles on his bed. “Jim, what in blazes are you doin’?”

“Making myself comfortable,” says James Kirk as he punches an extra pillow into submission.

“But—but…” Leonard trails off, now wide awake. Sure enough, Jim has stretched out alongside him and appears to be quite satisfied with his current position. Leonard’s protest is instantaneous. “I’m too old to be sharing a bed.”

“I’m too old to be sleeping on the floor,” replies the other man, who then yawns and mutters, “Go to bed, Bones.”

“Jim. Jim!” No amount of prodding will move a stubborn ass like James Tiberius Kirk. Leonard drops his head back onto his pillow with a loud, annoyed gust of air. “Why can’t I win?”

A hand slides into his, fingers interlocking. “You’ve already won” is the quiet whisper next to him.

He bites his lip, closing his eyes, and squeezes that warm hand, strokes the side of it with his thumb. “What about Spock?”

Silence. Then, “He’ll find his way.”

Leonard can’t help but think, as his tired mind betrays him and drifts back into sweet oblivion, Will that way be to us, Jim?

Once McCoy is asleep again, Jim answers the softly murmured question. “I don’t know.”

~~~
before…

“Did you tell him he was supposed to be here?” McCoy asks his question and then takes a moment to glare pointedly at a staring child about the age of ten. She pops her gum in response and keeps staring. “I want to get off.”

“No you don’t,” Jim says mildly next to him. “And yes, I told Spock. He’ll be here.”

“In the next five seconds?”

“Bones, will you stop complaining?”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!”

A female voice behind them whispers loudly, Aw, a lover’s spat. Isn’t that sweet, honey?

McCoy would turn around to glare at her too, like the little girl, but he’s stuck and he can’t twist around and “Damn it, Jim, you can’t be two and thirty-five at the same time! Make up your mind!”

Jim is ignoring him and craning around to look through the crowds. McCoy spies the attendant approaching their car and he is about to holler until the young man lifts the stupid bar and let’s him go home—or sulk with a large bag of boiled peanuts next to the ferris wheel—when Jim cries out, “Spock! Over here!”

Leonard slumps, defeated.

“Greetings,” says the Vulcan, who eyes the two humans crammed into the small car of the ride.

“Get in.” Jim pats the empty spot left.

Apparently Spock doesn’t need to be told twice. The bar lifts, and Spock sits down before Leonard can bolt while he is freed from entrapment—except Jim knows what he is thinking and has tossed an arm around the doctor’s shoulders to keep him not so subtly in place.

Jim is telling Spock, “You’ll love this. It’s called a haunted house and—”

Leonard is never listening to Jim again. Never never never.

A voice rumbles overheard. “Welcome to the Spookiest House in Iowa, ladies and gentleman! Please keep all limbs inside the designated area….”

McCoy will admit later on that he did have fun—because watching a Vulcan say “That is illogical” at every killer clown and dancing skeleton (the young girl in the car ahead of them screams shrilly, as if in defiance of Spock’s opinions) is rather more memorable than he expected. Jim will simply grin in triumph and say, “Told you, Bones.”

Footnotes:
1. Second scene is a fictional extension of the episode All Our Yesterdays.

We needed an emotional recap. So where is this fic heading next?

Next Part

Related Posts:

• What We Feel (12/12) – from April 2, 2011
• What We Feel (11/12) – from April 2, 2011
• What We Feel (10/12) – from March 28, 2011
• What We Feel (9/?) – from March 26, 2011
• What We Feel (7/?) – from March 20, 2011