PART THIRTEEN [CLOSED]
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As a new guideline: for the time being, I'd like to put a damper on the re-requesting going on. Please only re-request something if it has been more than a month since you asked for it and it still hasn't been filled. I'd like to remind everyone that old parts still have many ( Read more... )
“You granted him his wish, Leonard. You did not kill him.”
McCoy almost choked. “Three months later, a cure was found.”
Spock moved his hand and gently touched McCoy’s arm in an uncharacteristic gesture. “I grieve with thee.”
“I didn’t tell you this for your sympathy, though I appreciate the sentiment. I just wanted you to know that sometimes we try our best to do what’s right; but our best isn’t always enough to save the people we love.”
Spock nodded in apparent understanding. “Would you care for a drink, Leonard? I have a small selection in my quarters.”
The invitation surprised McCoy; he’d never been inside the Vulcan’s quarters before. Even the chess matches Spock had with Jim always took place in the captain’s cabin.
Where Spock had managed to procure the bottle of Romulan ale, McCoy didn’t like to ask. They sat in silence as the Vulcan sipped tea and he steadily worked his way through the bottle.
The following morning, McCoy found himself in his own bed, clothed apart from his boots, the blankets thrown over him. He wondered why he didn’t feel hungover until he saw the hypospray on the nightstand, evidently administered before Spock had left. He’d forgive the Vulcan this once for practicing without a license.
As he lay on his bed, he contemplated the previous evening with Spock. Despite the fact that the Vulcan could drive him up the wall, he couldn’t deny he enjoyed his companionship even when they weren’t talking. The previous night, they’d been almost completely silent, apparently content just with the company of the other.
-=-=-
Stardate 2259.68, CMO’s personal log, Leonard McCoy recording. Things have finally calmed down after the most intense two weeks we’ve had since the start of the mission. The population of Beta Canaris, locally known as Lageni, had been threatened by a plague brought in by smugglers operating illegally out of a remote spaceport close to one of the planetary poles. As the nearest spaceship, Enterprise had been sent to assist. Spock and I headed a cross-departmental team to find a cure and faster than I would have believed, we had a breakthrough that saved literally millions of lives. Unlike that last time on a primitive planet where our intervention never made it on any official report, Spock and I were lauded as heroes and Jim recommended us for citations which Admiral Pike endorsed. While I get the whole public recognition thing, I hate that kind attention and Jim knows it, which is why I think he agreed to do a quiet presentation with just the senior crew present. Once done, I couldn’t escape fast enough.
McCoy realized the observation deck wasn’t empty as the door slid open and a familiar silhouette faced the sparkling darkness beyond. After hesitating a moment, he made his way over to stand beside Spock.
“I grieve with thee,” McCoy said after a pause, remembering the ritual words.
Spock nodded in acknowledgement.
“Didn’t Jim realize the date?” To be fair, McCoy hadn’t, at first, either. He’d been trying to figure out when would be the first anniversary of the destruction of Vulcan based on the length of a Vulcan year, knowing the former planet’s orbit about Eridani was longer than Earth’s about Sol. After doing the calculations and translating it to a stardate, he had realized it coincided with the date of their presentation. He’d thought about saying something to Jim but figured that was for Spock to do and so remained silent.
“The captain did, but only after Nyota informed him. He approached me and asked if I wished to reschedule, but I saw no reason for it.”
Silence fell between them as each one contemplated the universe and their lives within it.
-=-=-
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