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***
Several days after McCoy's discussion and examination by M'Benga, the doctor found himself in need of someone to confide to. As M'Benga was the only one other than he and Spock that knew what happened on the planet, he was the logical choice. (And didn't he hate to use that word, even in his own head?)
"How can I face him? I don't know what to say. I don't think he even wants to talk to me outside of work. He completely avoids me when possible."
"I see, and you don't avoid him?"
Damn the man, did he have to be so blasted perceptive? No he hadn't exactly been hanging around the bridge or...okay he'd been hiding out in his quarters or Sickbay ever since they'd come back. But still, after what had happened he'd have thought Spock would come and discuss what happened, or that Leonard would feel something through the bond. Instead, it had been silent, neither one letting their thoughts seep into the link, their emotions tightly veiled.
*.*.*
Days passed on board the Enterprise.
Neither McCoy nor Spock spoke of what happened on the planet between them, they were quieter of late; there were few arguments and the teasing banter that often existed between them was absent. Kirk started to notice the tension between them and wondered at the cause. His two best officers, and his best friends, just weren't interacting the same way. They seemed to avoid all social contact together and he rarely saw them at the same time off duty. He played chess with Spock and had a brandy with McCoy, but never together.
It was unusual since over the years the three had become close friends. They often spent evenings together, McCoy sipping a drink and reading a padd while the other two played a game of chess. In between moves, McCoy would banter with one or the other over their strategies or just read out loud passages in the attempt to make Kirk laugh and get a reaction out of Spock. But the last few days had found McCoy working late hours in Sickbay. Over what, Kirk had no clue. There were no patients and McCoy hadn't mentioned any new experiments or papers.
And Spock? Spock was the same logical, precise and efficient first officer as always. Except...well, he seemed almost...deferential to McCoy. Unfailingly polite and seemed to respect McCoy's avoidance. Kirk could feel the tension building and hated it, but the two seemed inclined to continue their behavior without outside intervention.
He wondered at what to do to restore their balance. Putting them together alone certainly hadn't done them any good, if anything it seemed to have started just after their time on the planet. Maybe they needed a little time apart.
'Hell, they were alone together for several days; they probably bickered the whole time,' Kirk thought with a small smirk to himself. 'They most likely just needed a little vacation from each other. There's not much chance for that on this ship. Maybe some shore leave for Bones, Spock would never hear of it, but Bones could use some rest and relaxation...'
*.*.*
"Vacation?! Are you kiddin' me? I've got tons of work to do!" McCoy seemed livid at the very idea of some time off.
"Bones...Leonard, I'm just trying to give you a little rest and relaxation. Your work will be there when you get back."
"Wait a minute, why are you so concerned about my rest? Are you trying to tell me I haven't been doing my job? Have you gotten complaints? Is my efficiency rating down or something?!" McCoy's blue eyes were blazing and his cheeks were starting to flush.
"No, no. I just thought you might like some shore leave is all." Kirk didn't know why McCoy was overreacting so badly. He just wanted to soothe the doctor. "Look, I didn't mean it the way it sounded, we all could use some rest around here and I thought I'd let you have the first slot out of courtesy. That's all. But, I've got to tell you, Bones. Your reaction is telling me that you need this vacation more than I suspected. Consider yourself on R&R first thing in the morning or else" Kirk ended firmly. He wasn't going to take no for an answer, the doctor was clearly stressed out and that made him a danger to his patients and the ship.
McCoy seemed ready to argue the point further, but he recognized the stubborn set of Jim's jaw and steely eyes and answered wearily, "All right, fine. Have it your way. Now let me finish these reports and get my labs in order...sir" Kirk nodded brusquely, then relented and clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't be so glum, Bones, vacation is not a dirty word."
"Oh, yeah, then does that mean you'll be doing some of your own on the planet, captain? You need a vacation more than anyone else on this ship."
Kirk felt relieved, now that was the kind of response he expected from McCoy, typical mother hen.
"Well, we'll see what happens" Jim answered vaguely over his shoulder as he left sickbay, grinning smugly to himself. Mission completed; now hopefully the balance between Bones and Spock would be restored after a little stress relief and time apart.
*.*.*
Kirk moved his rook to the second level of the chessboard, pleased at his gambit. Distracted, he didn't notice that Spock's mind was not entirely engaged with the game.
"Captain, I noted that the shore leave roster was modified today. Was there a problem?" Spock spoke ever so coolly making a move on the board.
"Hm? Oh, yes, I moved Bones up to this shore leave. He needs a little vacation, he's working too hard." Kirk returned his attention to the game.
"I see. Yes, the doctor does indeed work hard, so he asked for an advancement in the roster?"
"No, I felt he needed it and gave it to him. He actually resisted at first, but I know that some sun and fresh air will do him good. Maybe a little flirting with the local ladies will help, too." Kirk grinned slightly to himself. Then he wondered if McCoy was right, maybe he did need a little vacation. He could use a little...sunshine himself.
Kirk didn't notice that Spock had suddenly tightened the grip on his knight until his knuckles turned white. Nor did he notice that the Vulcan mask slipped ever so slightly into a grimace before swiftly returning to cool indifference.
Jim glanced up at his friend who was taking a little long to place his piece. "Something wrong, Spock?"
"Not at all, captain. Checkmate."
"Damn!"
*.*.*
The planet that granted the Enterprise crew shore leave was a very pleasant one. The continent the Enterprise chose to let the crew down on was warm and full of interesting, but harmless vegetation. Beautiful flowers, shady trees, nothing seemed amiss...except for one moody medical officer. The crew that transported down with McCoy for shore leave found themselves wondering why the doctor looked like he was being sent to his own execution. Most of them decided to leave McCoy alone, better to enjoy their own vacation and let him glower somewhere else.
As his fellow crew members scattered in their own directions, McCoy took a deep breath and scolded himself. 'Stop it, Leonard, you are acting like a child. This was a nice thing for Jim to do...it's not every day we get to have shore leave. Leave your cares on board the ship and enjoy this time...plenty of time to worry later.'
McCoy relaxed his stiff posture and strolled with his bag to the local equivalent of a hotel. Once in his room he changed into a loose blue short sleeve shirt that was loose and comfortable and khaki slacks. The change in attire helped his mood further and he decided to go out and taste the local fare. 'Wonder what kind of liquor they have here...'
*.*.*
Spock sat at his station conducting scans on a nearby star, as was his duty. Regrettably, the study was lacking in challenge and he found his thoughts drifting twice. He sternly schooled his thoughts back to his work both times. Such indiscipline was unacceptable. He would have to meditate later and stop his musings on an emotional problem. 'I do not have an emotional problem. The Pon Farr is over and as such, I have no excuse for this behavior.' Firmly restrained once more, he turned his mind back to his studies. Boring as they were...
After shift he entered the turbo lift, the captain close behind him. He raised an eyebrow at the captain's eagerness to leave the bridge. Usually Kirk spent every spare moment on the bridge, 'forgetting' shift changes. Spock noted that he was guilty of such behavior himself, and declined to comment. He was eager to leave the bridge for once...he needed to meditate.
Kirk noticed the eyebrow, however. "For once neither one of us is too keen on a second shift, hmm? Actually, I wanted to talk to you, Spock, could we have a word?"
"Of course, captain." Spock led them to his own quarters, the warmer temperature of the cabin suited Spock better.
Entering, the two sat on the regulation chairs in Spock's living area. He offered his captain a beverage, a courtesy that Vulcans shared with humans. After all, their planet was a desert; hosts were expected to offer refreshments. The captain accepted a cup of tea that Spock was having. Spock was beginning to realize that this would be more than simply a courtesy call, he decided to let Kirk begin at his own pace, much as he would have preferred hurrying it along in order to get to his meditation. 'Calm, such behavior is unVulcan,' Spock reminded himself.
Kirk watched Spock's hidden anxiousness. To anyone else it would have been completely hidden, he knew his first officer better, though. The Vulcan was as fidgety as could be without tapping a foot or wringing his hands. He wondered how to start this conversation. At first he'd simply wanted to make sure everything was al right and maybe mention his thoughts on taking a shore leave himself. Now he realized that Spock was in worse shape than he'd thought. Maybe he should order Spock to take shore leave instead. He could wait for the next one, Spock needed it more...but he knew he'd have to word this just right and leave him no option. The planet was big enough for the doctor and first officer to have vacation without bumping into one another...
Setting his tea down on the table in between them, he straightened his shoulders and looked his squirrelly first officer in the eye. "Spock. It has come to my attention that a certain command officer is in need of a rest."
"Indeed, captain. Will you be transporting down today, then?"
Kirk allowed a small smile. "No, I was speaking of another command officer, you. I am ordering you to take the remaining two days of vacation down on the planet. Effective immediately."
Spock looked shocked; Kirk felt a small thrill in getting such a reaction from the usually stoic officer. Spock really needed that vacation.
Spock almost said, 'But, Captain...' then quickly remembered that Kirk had stated formally as an order. No questioning the order then. He stood up and briskly said, "Acknowledged."
Kirk was surprised at his easy victory, best not to question it. He nodded as he stood and as he left Spock's quarters he called out, "Oh, and Spock? Have fun." With that the doors snapped shut.
*.*.*
Spock beamed down to the resort area. The local past times were an illogical waste of time. He decided to take advantage of his brief leave from his duties and spend them in his cabin meditating. He discarded his uniform and instead of putting on his usual meditation robes, he chose the long, loose fitting black tunic and pants that were sometimes used for more specialized meditation and exercise. The Vulcan planned to include the physical exercises that were traditional in some meditations.
He stretched his muscles in a warm up move and then slowly began the Be'ha'lea, a series of slow motions and positions comparable to the human Tai Chi, or Katas. His mind cleared of some of its clutter and his thoughts focused into peaceful and logical rhythms. He felt at peace...
*^*^*
Leonard knocked back another local drink, enjoying his fine buzz. He was beginning to relax a little, but he was feeling a little lonely. The bar he had entered didn't seem to have any fellow crewmates and the locals seemed to be avoiding him. Most seemed friendly enough, just distant. There was a group in the corner, however that seemed a little...odd. Not hostile, necessarily, but they had eyed the doctor twice and he was beginning to get the idea that he was the topic of conversation. Perhaps it was best to retire to his room. He had a padd full of old stories he liked that he was looking forward to rereading. Perhaps a hot bath...
His plans for early retirement to his rooms were spoiled, however, when the bartender insisted on giving him a free drink and engaging him in conversation. By the time he left, he was the last patron to go. Weaving slightly in the streets, he struggled to remember the direction of his rooms.
"Space farer!! Offworlder! Go home!"
Loud shouts came from behind him and he wheeled around to face the disturbance. It was the group from the bar. They seemed fairly young and definitely hostile. One swung a club the size of a baseball bat. The gesture was menacing, but not close enough to hit. McCoy staggered back and wondered at his lack of coordination. I didn't have that much to drink... And yet...he was well and truly inebriated. He tripped on his own feet trying to back away. The thugs came closer and the man with the bat got bolder, swinging the club down on him.
A wave of pain radiated from his chest as he fell to the ground. Not particularly adept at martial arts to begin with, McCoy was unable to attempt even the most basic of defense moves. His left arm clutched his injured chest as he struggled to rise. The drugged feeling was becoming worse by the second. The thugs closed in as he failed to rise and all four began to kick and hit him. He fell back as all remaining strength fled him.
As darkness closed in on him, he saw a pale hand grab two of the thugs by the neck.
McCoy's head flopped as he tried to raise it and see what was going on. The remaining two turned on the newcomer, but McCoy could see the black clothed form easily dispatch them with a few well placed blows. His vision wavered once more and he passed out, but he could swear that he heard a word in his mind...
^T'hy'la!^
*.*.*
He woke to a bright light and soft beeping sounds. He groaned softly and tried to sit up.
"Whoa! Dr. McCoy, slow down there. It's good to see you conscious, but don't try to get up just yet." M'Benga smiled at him while trying to prevent his patient from falling off the bed. Nurse Chapel rushed up to help, but M'Benga waved her off.
"What the hell happened?!" McCoy grimaced, holding his head and glaring at the doctor.
"Well, why don't you tell me what you remember first." McCoy glared at the man, hating being handled, but grudgingly admitted that it was standard procedure in determining unknown brain injuries.
"Drinking, in a bar. But not that much. Just a few and then...walking back to the hotel?"
The other man nodded encouragingly and raised his eyebrows. "And...?"
"And what?! And...and someone was yelling. Something...Offworlder! The men from the bar followed me and were shouting at me. They had a club and I couldn't think...or react. I felt...drugged." McCoy squeezed his eyes shut at remembering how helpless he'd been. How drunk and stupid to let himself get that way.
M'Benga quickly spoke up. "You were drugged. There was an unusually high amount of narcotic in your system. It acted like a tranquilizer. I'm amazed you got as far as you did."
McCoy looked up, "What do you mean?"
Kirk chose that moment to step in from the doorway he'd been hovering in. "The bartender at the bar you visited was arrested this morning for drugging you and the thugs were all captured at the scene. The man apparently was a sympathizer for a radical offshoot of a xenophobic group. The thugs paid him to poison you, but you didn't die like they'd hoped, instead, you got up and walked out of the bar and they decided to finish you off. "
"The bartender gave you a lethal dosage, but didn't anticipate you being so resistant and mobile. I'm not sure how your body withstood it myself. I'm running some additional tests." M'Benga gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and then turned to his monitors.
Kirk smiled again at McCoy's confused expression. "You're a damned lucky man, Bones."
"Lucky? I just happened to have been targeted by a radical group of alien haters and then walk out on my poisoning only to be beaten nearly to death and you say I'm lucky? I don't want to know what you'd consider unlucky." McCoy struggled to put his legs over the table despite Nurse Chapel's clucking.
Kirk shook his head. "You're lucky because you didn't succumb to the poison and you're even more lucky that you were able to get to an open area where someone could happen by and you're damned lucky that Spock showed up when he did and saved you."
McCoy paled, "Spock? What do you mean?"
"I mean that he was out for a walk and heard the beating and came to investigate. He nerve pinched two at the scene and disabled the other two before having you beamed to sickbay."
"But how would Spock have been there to...?"
"I made him take a vacation, too. So you see, you are one lucky son of a bitch. Those Vulcan ears and curiosity saved your life. You should thank him." Kirk said suggestively.
McCoy blinked and nodded dumbly. "I guess so. If you'll excuse me, captain..."
M'Benga and Chapel leaped at his words and stopped him. Kirk chuckled slightly, "I don't think you're going anywhere anytime soon, Bones. Just rest and relax. If you're eager to see Spock I'll send him in." Kirk left before McCoy could stop him.
*.*.*
McCoy was cranky and wanted to go to his quarters. He wanted to get up and do his job instead of laying about being poked and prodded by his own staff. Chapel was getting on his nerves and M'Benga was refusing to answer his questions about general sickbay business.
"Damn it, are you a doctor or a government official? The state of the labs is not classified information. Just answer my questions!" McCoy gave M'Benga a nasty glare as the younger doctor repeated his order for rest and included a threat of sedation if McCoy's blood pressure continued to rise. McCoy fumed.
"I see you treat your staff no better when you are ill than when you are well," a cool voice noted. Startled, McCoy turned to see the Vulcan standing quietly in the corner. When the hell had he come in?
"I treat them just fine...when they obey orders. No one will give me the status reports or let me out of this blasted bed."
Spock stepped forward slightly and clasped his hands behind his back. "I've been told you are still under observation and thus on medical leave, your orders are not applicable at this time. Also, you are under your doctor's orders to rest and avoid undue stimulation. Do you not continually harp on such importance of doctor's orders when 'you' are the doctor? Your behavior is most illogical."
McCoy would have been angry with that if he hadn't heard a subtle tone of humor in the statement. Spock was attempting to distract him. "You might be considered undue stimulation...arguing with a sick man." McCoy grumbled, but then smiled to show he was teasing. He then took a deep breath and let a solemn, but grateful look cross his face. "But I'm glad you're here, Spock. I hear I owe you my life. Jim says I was incredibly lucky."
Spock gave a slight pained wince at his words, quickly hiding it but not before McCoy noted it. "Vulcans do not believe in luck. I was...fortunate to have been able to assist you."
"Assist me? You saved me. They'd poisoned me and when I wasn't dying quick enough they tried to speed me along. I'd be dead if you hadn't gotten me to sickbay in time." 'What was that? A flash of mental pain? Not from me...from Spock?' Through the link. McCoy looked at him with concern.
"Yes...it was a most urgent task. You were no longer breathing..." Spock paused before nearly blurting out, "But I can see you are doing well now. If you'll excuse me, Dr. McCoy." Spock turned to leave and McCoy jumped off the biobed to stop him.
"Wait! I-" Unfortunately, McCoy didn't take his still weakened state into account and his wobbly knees failed him. Spock turned and caught him before he collapsed. McCoy grabbed the other man's shoulders to keep from slipping down and Spock gently pulled him up to his feet.
They both stared into each other's eyes, stunned, for one desperate moment they remained locked into position. The link between them flared to life at the physical contact and McCoy felt a rush of concern and pain from Spock. Concern for his health and well being, pain over the recent events. Pain over the damage to McCoy during Pon Farr. The damage to their friendship because of it. And pain over seeing McCoy's crumpled form on the dark street, bathed in blood, dying.
McCoy gasped at the sensations and images assaulting him. How could he have missed how much pain Spock was in. He hid it so well. Spock reacted to the gasp and broke the moment Bending slightly, he swept McCoy's legs and lifted him to the bed.
Spock was breathing hard, although he was not physically winded. His eyes burned as he stared stricken into McCoy's widened eyes. "You should not..." Spock's voice was strangled, he cleared his throat, "You should not be out of bed, doctor. You are still recovering. I will get Dr. M'Benga."