#Especially his loving gaze towards Spock

[spockskock]

« I will find you in every universe »

#The actors really delivered on this scene #It was perfectly orchestrated #Paul Wesley embodied Kirk #Especially his loving gaze towards Spock #spirk #star trek #star trek tos #spock #space husbands #strange new worlds #snw spock #star trek strange new worlds #snw #spock discovery #strange new worlds kirk #bi kirk #s'chn t'gai spock #paul wesley #ethan peck #k/s

[urbandunsel]

clipping this entire scene because it is undoubtedly one of my favorites in star trek tos

- spock's concentrated, wordless stare while the other two talk behind him. probably guiding himself through some much needed meditation - alexander's reluctance to touch him, even if to comfort, just cautious of the vulcan that's been pushed past his limits - bones and kirk worried for him, watching from a distance and entirely aware that he's not as composed as he's trying to appear - spock's first concern lies with kirk's health and mental well-being before confiding that he, too, has been ruined by the humiliation - "i have noted that the healthy release of emotion is frequently very unhealthy for those closest to you" !!! wow! what a line! spock fears exhibiting emotion, even more so when it threatens those he cares about. he'd much rather remain logical especially when it protects his friends - kirk's sympathetic gaze before he sits down beside spock, relaxing his tone and ready to console - (spock still with his stare pointed forward, his posture unchanged. doing his best to guide himself back down from his anger) - though nimoy is taller than shatner, spock is significantly smaller than kirk in these frames. hunched, limbs close together, head slouched. not as broad and confident as he usually presents himself - also tiny detail but i love how lazy his clasped fingers become as the scene progresses, slanting to the side like he's indifferent about maintaining his perfect, angular posture and mannerisms - spock checking how kirk and bones feel about their anger towards parmen. spock, as if he's figured it out and is absolutely fine, instructs them on what to do like he doesn't need any further help himself - "then you must release it, gentlemen, as i must master mine" - nimoy killed it here. avoiding any eye contact with kirk. his voice dropping low, whispery, his words slow and restrained. - (personal opinion) this scene frightens me in terms of spock's anger far more than portrayals such as snw or aos. the muted, tense dialogue and vacant expression (with props to nimoy's talent again) are so disconcerting to witness. it feels more realistic, in terms of both actual reality and vulcan tendencies, to clam up and withdraw before one becomes overwhelmed and does not want to lash out. it's a demonstration of intense compartmentalizing when faced with something perhaps traumatizing to spock - and of course, the vase shattering. it's about the most we get of spock's unadulterated anger in tos. he petrifies himself immediately after, likely still fighting like hell in his head - kirk rising, eyeing him with worry, unsure of what to say. now both men are at their full height and spock is taller--as usual--though it's a contrast to how they were positioned seconds ago. spock, though containing himself, is teetering on the edge of anger and physically appears to be as strong or stronger than kirk, posing a threat if he were to become genuinely enraged. he'd be far more frightening than any human, physically and psychologically, if he lashed out. this idea was of course explored in "this side of paradise" - bones calling kirk away. "jim." similar to his earlier line "there is no medicine that can help him, he'll have to come through this himself." perhaps feeling for spock but recognizing there is nothing they nor their words can do for him - not once does spock look at either of them during this scene. so much is left unsaid, yet so much is shown. such good writing and acting. 10/10

#star trek tos #spock #mr spock #james t kirk #bones #leonard mccoy

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 2) Chapter Six

Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Six: Body-Switching Aliens

Summary: Spock, Kirk, and Mulhall allow the aliens to possess them to build android bodies. Unfortunately, Henoch is up to something.

            “The extreme power of the alien mind will drive the action dangerously high, and the body functions will race many times their normal metabolism,” explained Bones to Chapel. “So we’re going to have to monitor this very carefully.”

            “Yes, sir,” said Chapel.

            Spock, Kirk, and Mulhall lay on infirmary beds beside the receptacles of Henoch, Sargon, and Thalassa beside them. (Y/N) sat beside Spock, anxiously waiting for the transference of minds to take place.

            “Well, I guess we’re about as ready as we’ll ever be,” said Bones. “(L/N), if there any changes in their emotions, let me know.”

            “Jim,” said Sargon’s voice.

            “Ready, Sargon,” said Kirk.

            Kirk, Spock, and Mulhall prepared themselves. The three receptacles glowed brightly and whirred to life as the transference took place. Each of their bodies twitched slightly as their minds switched places with those of Henoch, Sargon, and Thalassa. Finally, their bodies relaxed, and their eyes opened.

            “The transference…is complete,” said Sargon, his voice Kirk’s but unearthly and larger than life. He sat up, and Chapel quickly checked on the state of Kirk’s body since this was his second switch.

            “Hmm. Hmm.” Henoch’s voice came out like Spock’s, but there was more distinguishable emotion within it.

            He gazed down at Spock’s body as he considered his temporary vessel. Henoch propped himself up his elbows and looked around himself. His eyes landed on (Y/N), who was gazing at him curiously. They had met Sargon already and gauged Thalassa’s temperament from her emotions. Henoch was the only one they couldn’t figure anything about other than Sargon saying he was part of the “other side.”

            On his part, Henoch looked (Y/N) up and down before a smirk played on his lips. He chuckled and met their gaze. “What a beautiful sight to make up to after a half a million years.”

            (Y/N) blinked and turned pink. They knew it was Henoch, but seeing so much emotion and such words from Spock’s body in something like Spock’s voice was a shock. “Uh, thank you.”

            Henoch chuckled. “You’re welcome.” He stood and turned to (Y/N). “Hm. Not human like these others, are you?”

            (Y/N) shook their head. “I am Celian.”

            “Ah. The empath,” said Henoch. He smirked. “I’ve always liked psychics. Especially attractive ones. What’s your name?”

            (Y/N) wasn’t sure what they had been expecting from Henoch, but it hadn’t been flirting with them. “I’m Lieutenant (Y/N) (L/N).” They were trying to remain polite, but they weren’t sure how to deal with the situation.

            “(Y/N)…” murmured Henoch. “How lovely it is to meet you.”

            (Y/N) took a step back. Seeing Spock’s face look at them like that was so weird that even if Henoch was just flirting innocently (not an unusual occurrence for (Y/N)), they weren’t sure how to deal with it.

            Luckily, everyone’s attention was stolen as Thalassa and Sargon stood up and gazed at each other. The romantic tension was nearly palpable.

            “Sargon…” breathed Thalassa. She walked towards him, and Sargon met her in the middle. She examined Sargon in Kirk’s body. “I am not displeased, my husband. Your body is not unlike that which was your own.”

            “And I, too…am pleased, beloved,” said Sargon. He gently took Thalassa’s hand, his thumb circling the back of her hand affectionately. He leaned in and kissed his wife, and Thalassa kissed back.

            Henoch smirked and looked at (Y/N). “I, too, and pleased with this body. In fact, I believe I received the best of them. Am I correct?”

            “Spock takes care of himself. It’s part of what makes him an admirable Science Officer,” replied (Y/N).

            “Yes, well, the strength, hearing, and eyesight are far superior to those of humans,” said Henoch. He chuckled. “I’m surprised the Vulcan never conquered other civilizations.”

            (Y/N) frowned. “The Vulcans are a peaceful, logical people, Henoch,” they said.

            “Of course, of course. As are we,” said Henoch with a pleasant smile. “We love having peaceful relations with other cultures.”

            Without the ability to sense his emotions since he hid them as well as Spock, (Y/N) couldn’t decide if Henoch’s use of “relations” was innocent or was a euphemism. They really hoped it wasn’t the latter.

            Thalassa slumped forward, and Sargon caught her. The commotion caught their attention.

            “Nurse!” called Bones. He and Chapel guided Thalassa back to the infirmary bed.

            “Doctor, I…” Sargon groaned as a similar faintness crept in.

            Bones quickly escorted him back to bed as well and turned to Henoch. “You’d better get back to bed, too, Henoch.”

            “Unnecessary, Doctor. This Vulcan body is accustomed to higher metabolism,” said Henoch.

            Bones frowned but focused back on the ill Sargon. “It won’t work, Sargon. You’ve got to get out before you kill them.”

            “We will vacate at once…until you can administer a metabolic reduction injection,” said Sargon.

            “A what?” asked Bones.

            “I will prepare the injection, Sargon,” said Henoch.

            “Henoch…your condition?” asked Sargon, struggling to stay awake.

            “I can continue in this body for several hours,” said Henoch with a pleased smile.

            “Fortunate…” murmured Sargon. “We will…vacate at once.” He and Thalassa’s minds transferred back into their receptacles as the exhaustion took over.

            Henoch turned to (Y/N). “Would you show me to your pharmacology laboratory?”

            (Y/N) nodded. They were happy to help since it meant Spock’s body wouldn’t be hurt by Henoch’s presence. Even if it withstood the metabolic changes now, there was no telling what time would do. They couldn’t let Spock be hurt.

l

            “Now this formula will reduce the heart action and the bodily functions to normal,” explained Henoch. “While the bodies are occupied, your Nurse Chapel will administer one injection of ten cc’s each hour.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “I’ll let Nurse Chapel know.”

            “This hypo is for myself, and these two are marked for Thalassa and Sargon,” he said.

            (Y/N) frowned as they examined them. They had spent enough time around Spock to have a little bit of his scientific knowledge had rubbed off on them. “Why is the one for you different?”

            Henoch paused and glanced at them. He clearly hadn’t anticipated them catching the differences. “This body is Vulcan. Its composition calls for a slightly different mixture.” He smiled, but (Y/N) was struck by the performative nature of it, like a politician trying to seem caring.

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow. They needed to see Henoch’s emotions to figure out if he was trying to hide something. “I think we should check with Bones—”

            “If we don’t administer it soon, there will be repercussions for Jim Kirk and Ann Mulhall’s bodies,” said Henoch, walking out of the room before (Y/N) could stop him. What’s more, he had Chapel inject them all before (Y/N) could arrive and intervene.

l

            Luckily, Sargon and Thalassa reacted well to the injections and began their work on their future mechanical bodies. Henoch worked alongside them, but he was more likely to wander the ship, learning about it and the world they’d be entering.

            However, (Y/N) worried. Yes, Sargon and Thalassa seemed fine, but it was suspicious that Henoch was more focused on the Enterprise than building his new body. He seemed to be growing too attached to Spock’s body, and (Y/N) was worried what that would mean.

            “Shouldn’t you be working on your android body?” asked (Y/N) as they entered a spare briefing room where Henoch was reading the manuscripts loaded onto the Enterprise’s mainframes.

            “I believe learning of the world I am joining is just as important,” said Henoch with a politician-smile.

            “You’ll have all the time in the world after you enter your new body,” said (Y/N) stubbornly.

            Henoch smirked and stood. “Are you so eager to get rid of me?”

            (Y/N) refused to react to his approach. “That is Spock’s body, and Spock is my friend. I want him back.”

            Henoch lifted a hand to (Y/N)’s cheek, but they stepped back. The idea of Spock’s body touching them without his approval weirded them out, like it was a betrayal of his trust in them not to cross his boundaries, one of which was touch. Henoch’s eyes narrowed at the movement.

            “I assure you, I can offer far more than this Vulcan can,” said Henoch, smiling.

            “I don’t know you,” said (Y/N) curtly. “So I don’t care. Please, go and finish your android body.”

            Henoch smirked. “Oh, but I don’t want to. You see, like this, I can truly feel.” He reached out and gripped (Y/N)’s arm as if proving his words. “I can experience life.” Henoch pulled them closer. “I can experience everything again.”

            (Y/N) attempted to pull away, but Henoch’s Vulcan-body-aided strength kept them in place. “Listen, I don’t know why you seem so attracted to me, but it doesn’t matter because you have to leave—”

            “I told you, I like pretty psychics. Far superior to common minds,” said Henoch. “And I long to experience physical pleasure again, and you are by far the only—”

            (Y/N) cut him off before he could say further lascivious things. “I don’t care. You’ve proven you’re a threat now. Now let go, and perhaps we can have a peaceful end to this with Sargon and Thalassa.”

            Henoch’s grip tightened to a bruising force. “Too late for that, so I think you should—”

            The intercom buzzed, and Bones’s voice came over the speaker. “Henoch! You need to get down to Deck 6. Thalassa and Sargon…They’ve died.”

            Those hypos! realized (Y/N). Dammit, I knew something was going on!

            “Oh, dear. The game’s really begun now,” said Henoch slyly.

            (Y/N) tried to pull away from Henoch, but he reached up for their head. Alarmed as they realized a fellow psychic was trying to mess with their mind, they leaned away. “Get away from me!” Their mind lashed out in response, and Henoch jerked back at the sudden flare of psychic power. They turned and darted out the door to get help.

            “You can’t hope to beat me,” said Henoch as (Y/N) left. He sneered. “You are insects to me! You’ll grovel for mercy at my feet!”

l

            (Y/N) skidded to a stop outside the Medbay and ran in. “Kirk and Mulhall! Are they still alive?!” Just because Sargon and Thalassa’s minds were gone from the body, there was a chance that they could still survive.

            Bones was surprised to see them but nodded, focused on his job. “Kirk and Mulhall’s bodies are alive, yes, but their consciousnesses are still in the receptacles. Sargon and Thalassa were too far from their receptacles to transfer back in. They’re lost.”

            “Are you sure?” demanded (Y/N).

            “Yeah. (Y/N), what’s wrong?” asked Bones.

            “Henoch did this. He claimed the hypos had to be different because Spock’s body is that of a Vulcan and Kirk and Mulhall are humans, but he must have…poisoned them or something. He wants to keep Spock’s body, and I think he’s planning on controlling the Enterprise!” the words spilled out of (Y/N) in a worried jumble as reality began to set in.

            Bones cursed. “Goddammit. What the hell are we supposed to do against an essentially godlike psychic without Jim or our resident pointy-eared hobgoblin?”

            “We may not be able to battle Henoch ourselves, but we are still here to assist,” said the echoing voice of Sargon directly into Bones and (Y/N)’s minds.

            “Sargon?” they said in confusion.

            “We believed Henoch had learned from the mistakes of the past. We were wrong, and your people have suffered for it. We’re deeply sorry for it,” said Thalassa’s kind voice, clear in their mind.

            “How are you…existing? I thought Henoch destroyed you,” said (Y/N). Bones was quiet, letting the psychics speak.

            “I have power not even Henoch suspects, and so I saved myself and my beloved Thalassa,” said Sargon.

            “We have a plan to defeat Henoch,” said Thalassa.

            (Y/N) blinked as the information was relayed into their mind. “Oh. I understand.” They turned to Bones. “Alright. Things are about to get a little weird.”

            Bones frowned. “What do you mean—!” His eyes widened as Kirk and Mulhall’s eyes widened, and they stood up. “Jim…?” Kirk nodded. “And Dr. Mulhall?” She nodded.

            “Now, Bones, you need to make a hypo to poison Henoch. Something that would affect a Vulcan,” said (Y/N). “We will destroy the receptacles.”

            “What?! Spock’s consciousness is in one of them,” hissed Bones.

            (Y/N) shook their head. “No. Sargon and Thalassa are keeping him safe.” Their eyes were bright with honesty. “I would never hurt him. Please, trust.”

            “Fine, fine. Damn psychics,” muttered Bones, but everyone could tell he was pleased to know everyone would be alright if this went to plan. “What’s after that?”

            “Then, we have a body-snatching alien to beat,” said Kirk determinedly.

            Spock. We’re coming, thought (Y/N).

l

            Henoch grinned in satisfaction as he lounged in the captain’s chair. No one could stop him or the power of his mind would render them helpless with pain.

            “Henoch,” said Kirk as the elevator doors opened. “Leave my crew alone!”

            Henoch smirked, “Pain, Captain.”

            Kirk gasped and collapsed in pain. Henoch smirked and turned back to the Viewscreen. Bones darted down with the hypo to inject him, but Henoch raised a hand. Bones froze from Henoch’s psychic power.

            “Fortunately, Doctor, I know every thought of every mind around me, you see,” said Henoch, smirking. He grabbed the hypo and smashed it on the ground. “There, let’s not play any tiresome games. We all know I’ll win.”

            “Henoch,” said (Y/N), stepping down beside the captain’s chair. They smiled. “Are you still interested in me?”

            Henoch was surprised at their openness but smirked. “Why, of course.”

            (Y/N) reached up and touched his face. Their face became deadly calm. “Well, I’m not.” Their golden eyes nearly glowed as they forced their empathic powers through Henoch. With Sargon and Thalassa’s support, they had the psychic power to defeat him. “So get out of Spock!”

            Henoch’s eyes widened, and he cried out as his mind was forced from Spock’s body by their sheer power. Sargon and Thalassa would finish him now. Spock’s body collapsed, and (Y/N) was at his side in an instant. Their anger abated and left them with just worry for Spock. Thalassa and Sargon had protected his mind and returned him to his body the moment (Y/N) forced Henoch out, but they couldn’t help but worry.

            “Spock?” they said gently. All their instincts and love for him made them want to reach out and hold him, but they didn’t want to cross his boundaries, so all they could do was rest a hand on his arm. “Spock?” Spock’s eyes opened, and with (Y/N)’s help, he stood. They looked at him worriedly. “How are you feeling?”

            “I assume you mean my health, not my emotions,” said Spock. “In which case, I am just fine.”

            (Y/N) let out a soft laugh at his, well, humor (for that was Spock’s brand of it). “I’m glad,” they said, smiling at him.

            “Sargon, how can we thank you for helping us?” asked Kirk to the air around them.

            “You can allow Thalassa and I to share your bodies again, a last moment together,” said Sargon.

            Kirk and Mulhall looked at each other and nodded simultaneously. They stepped out of the group so that Sargon and Thalassa could have a moment. The two tensed as Sargon and Thalassa went into their bodies and turned to each other.

            (Y/N) put a hand to their heart as the warmth of pure love filled the air. “Wow…they really love each other.”

            Spock looked at (Y/N). Yes. They do.

            Thalassa and Sargon drew close, and Thalassa smiled gently.

            “Oblivion together does not frighten me, beloved,” she said softly, perfectly content because she was with the man she loved. “Promise we’ll be together.”

            “I promise…beloved,” said Sargon.

            And with a final kiss, they left the world together; two beings in love.

l

            “So, has Bones cleared you?” asked (Y/N), sitting down on the infirmary bed next to Spock’s.

            Spock nodded. “It seems the physical effects of transference were easily amended as my Vulcan physiology allowed me to withstand the metabolic changes.”

            “I’m glad you’re alright,” said (Y/N) honestly.

            “Dr. McCoy says you’re the one who saved my mind by forcing Henoch to leave my body,” said Spock.

            (Y/N) nodded and smiled sheepishly. “I hope it wasn’t too jarring.”

            Spock raised an eyebrow. “No. No, I have no issues. In fact, I thank you for your help.”

            “Anytime, Spock,” said (Y/N), smiling kindly. They shrugged awkwardly. “Anyways, I was happy to help. Henoch was a creep; he deserved to get the boot.”

            Spock furrowed his brow. “A ‘creep?’ ”

            “Yeah, he implied he wanted to sleep with me,” said (Y/N) distastefully.

            Spock’s eyes narrowed slightly. The idea of someone flirting with (Y/N) was displeasing enough in itself. Since it was (Y/N), Spock was unable to avoid the emotion of “jealousy” when someone showed interest in them. Furthermore, this instance involved someone possessing his body. The idea of Henoch putting his hands on (Y/N) in any way made Spock’s Vulcan blood burn in indignation just as his human side felt it.

            “I regret not being in my body. I could have prevented his advances,” said Spock.

            “Don’t worry, Spock.” They waved a hand before he could react. “I know, you don’t ‘worry.’ Still, it wasn’t you, so you don’t have to feel responsible for Henoch’s behavior.” (Y/N) smiled warmly. “Besides, I know you would never make unwanted advances towards me. You’re a better man than that. That’s one of the reasons I like you so much. I can trust you.”

            Spock had gone through many tests of his Vulcan stoicism, but having (Y/N) look at him like that and say something so kind was a challenge above all others.

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

#logos and pathos #ambassador spock #star trek spock #s'chn t'gai spock #mister spock #spock #spock x reader #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #star trek the original series #star trek fanfic #star trek tos #star trek #star trek x reader

[darehearts]

Jim  knows  Spock  is  not  interested  in  ‘willingly  becoming  incapacitated’       (       he  put  it  that  way  one  time,       he  remembers,       &       it       DOES       sound  pretty  stupid  worded  that  way,       the  captain  himself  agrees       ).  however  the  two  of  them  are  fluid  in  compromise  as  of  late.       &       a  single  glance  is  enough  to  tell  him  that  he’s  desperate  wanting  to  relax,       temporarily  put  down  the  universe  on  his  shoulders,       feel  the  gold  shirt  disappear  —  just  for  a  few,       just  so  he  can  be  Jim.       even  James  Kirk  needs  to  breathe.       happiness  fills  his  lungs  once  they’re  within  the  establishment.       his  deep  blue  gaze  catches  on  the  flame  of  red  shirts  instantly.      

even  in  respite,       his  heart  searches  for  his  family.      

he  offers  members  of  his  crew  soft  smiles  before  settling  in  a  corner  with  his  best  friend.       he  would  have  chosen  something  stronger  if  not  the  vulcan’s  presence  next  to  him.       his  presence       ALONE       has  the  effect  he  desires  upon  his  mind       :       a  shield  to  keep  the  darkness  out.       as  sunny  a  figure  James  is,       they  both  know  he  has  his  struggles.       he  offers  the  other  a  nod,       gently  clinking  his  big  glass  against  his.       ❝          TO  THE  ENTERPRISE.          ❞       he  takes  a  huge  sip.      

it  barely  registers  that  they  are  in       YORKTOWN,       the  one  place  he  ended  his  journey  of  self-exploration,       mostly.       it  hits  him  there  that  he  never  officially  told  him  what  had  intended  before.       ❝          i  can’t  believe  i  had  submitted  an  application  to  become  a  vice admiral  before  what  happened  with  Krall.       that’s  what  i  was  going  to  talk  to  you  about.       remember  that  time  in  the  turbolift    ?       i  was  almost  going  to  be  situated  here.          ❞      

almost,       but  his  love  for  the  stars,       his  need  to  be  with  his  family  pulled  him  away  from  the  embodiment  of  the       UTOPIA       the  Starfleet  strives  towards.       he  makes  a  quick  gesture  to  their  serene  surroundings.       ❝          i  love  all  this,       i  do.       look  at  how       HAPPY       everyone  seems,       so  content  with  barely  a  care  in  the  world.       AT  PEACE.          ❞      

a  soft  sigh  leaves  him,       head  atilt  as  he  watches  a  world  he  doesn’t  feel  he’s  a  part  of.       ❝          but  the  Enterprise     .  .  .       the  Enterprise.       i  give  and  she  takes.          ❞       he  looks  up  at  Spock  saying  so.       he’s  one  person  who  he  extensively  expressed  his  attachment  to  their  ship.       ❝          it  would  be  a  restless  life  if  i  went  through  with  it,       i  think.          ❞       it  would  be  unbearable  without  his  crew,       especially  without  the  man  facing  him.       ❝          what  do  you  think  Spock     ?       do  you  think  we  will       EVER       settle  down     ?          ❞

@prcspcr ★ |  from here  !

#prcspcr #TOS S1E5. Jim actually says 'i give. she takes' #talking about the Enterprise that resonated with me quite a lot! #i'm glad i got to incorporate it here. AND LOOK HOW DEEP THIS #WHOLE THREAD IS ALREADY it's very interesting to me ssdfkjs #| V: ★ STAR TREK ( ACT : 4 ) #| ★ TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN ( SPOCK : PRCSPCR ) #| ★ QUEUE

[dracwife]

nature. | spock

ship: grow fonder  →  spock/elden

word count: 744

summary: please help i cant stop gaining st husbands this isnt a joke or meme anymore its a genuine cry for help please g 

"How the hell do you put up with him all the time?"

. . .

"You seem fascinated with the sky, Commander."

"It's incredibly pretty, isn't it?"

"Beauty is subjective, Commander, and oft influenced by emotion."

"You could just say yes, and humor me," Elden drops the professional tone he held a moment before, and it does not go unnoticed.

"I would not lie to you, no matter the instance."

There is a brief pause as the Vulcan glances to the sky for a moment before speaking again, "It is just a moon, Commander."

Spock looks, though, back towards his human companion, and settles into committing the way he gazes longingly, lovingly, at the horizon, where the moon rises and the stars shine a particular shade of pale blue brighter than Earth's, like he is probably used to. 

"However, I can see the appeal in the view."

. . .

"You don't have to walk me to my room. I think I'm capable of that, at least."

"Perhaps, however, you nearly collapsed when trying to stand in the Medical Bay."

"Bones said I'd be fine, Spock."

"Doctor McCoy, for his expertise, does not know you like I do. You have a habit of trivializing your needs, and especially downplaying the impact of injury. It would be illogical for you to go unaccompanied just after gaining a wound such as yours, even if it is treated."

They stopped just in front of the door to the Commander's quarters. Elden took note of the way Spock stood observant, unmoving when he surely could have left already.

"See? I made it fine, like I said I would."

"And I am very pleased you have. I will be back to check on you in an hour. If you need anything in the meantime, I am sure the Captain will understand if I --"

"Oh, my," Elden tuts, "Your sympathy is showing."

"Not sympathy, Commander. Concern and perhaps affection. If you wish to accuse me of not keeping my emotions in check, please at least do-so with the correct ones."

. . .

"Thank you, by the way. For saving me. For looking after me."

"You are a valuable asset to the crew, Commander. There was no reason not to."

"You could have gotten hurt yourself."

"I weighed the outcomes."

"If you say so. But you still didn't have to take care of me after."

For the first time, Spock did not have a reasonable explanation. He could not rationalize the urge he felt to care for the commander -- for the human, who he'd come to admire, who he'd grown fond of. Who he continued to grow fonder of every time he found himself carrying out conversation with, every moment they spent together. He respected him. And he admired him.

Perhaps, even cared for him.

Their hands brushed together briefly as they stood in the lift. Neither of them acknowledged it, not verbally. But it happened, and they were both acutely aware, and as the doors opened to the bridge Spock found himself leaving quicker than usual, frustrated almost; an emotional mess by his standards, but no one batted an eye as he sat at the console, vaguely annoyed. He couldn't work out why he'd done what he'd done. What he could have said better, what he should have said he didn't. 

But his fingertips burned where he had brushed it against Elden's palm, and that was something he was sure of.

. . .

"I think you should loosen up, it would do you good to not be so wound up when you're off-duty."

"It is not in my nature to do so."

"I think it's in at least half of your nature, actually."

"Are you sure this is a debate that you wish to have with me, truly?"

"Not at all. I just like to tease you, because I love you."

"You have a strange way of showing affection. I am unsure if I understand the purpose of an --"

He was cut off suddenly by the kiss pressed against his lips, and though it was not uncommon as of late, it was never something he quite anticipated, even if it was to be expected.

"Is that better? Traditional enough 'affection' for you?"

"Traditional," he seemed almost dazed for a moment, "Yes, in the human sense. I…Believe I understand that one."

Elden barely caught the way Spock's mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly, disappearing as he gathered his thoughts again.

. . .

"How do I put up with him? …I suppose I find a way."

#dex.writes #ɢʀᴏᴡ ꜰᴏɴᴅᴇʀ | r. － s.

[companionjones]

And They Were Watching Cars

Pairing: Spock x Reader

Fandom: Star Trek (specifically Kelvin universe, but can be read as any Spock)

Summary: You suffer from nightmares. One night, Spock catches you crying.

Warnings: Nightmares, lack of sleep, cursing, mention of parental abuse

*******

    The pitch-black darkness of your quarters tricked you for a moment and made you believe you were still in your dream.

    When you came to your senses, you softly ordered, “Lights at twenty percent.” You curled your legs up to your chest, and let the tears fall.

    A gasp that was almost a scream escaped you when the entrance to your living quarters beeped, notifying you that someone wished to speak with you.

    You absolutely hated to cry in front of other people. You hoped to avoid it that night. You approached the door and inquired in your calmest possible voice, “Who is it?”

    “Commander Spock, Lieutenant. May I enter?”

    Your heart skipped a beat. “Um, no. It’s the middle of the night, Spock. Why are you here?”

    He responded, “It is about the interference we encountered earlier today. I require your eyes for interpreting some coding...”

    You swallowed thickly. Fuck. You knew you needed to make sure the coding wasn’t a warning for any coming attack on the ship. You opened the door.

    Out of your peripheral, you saw Spock tense up, but you didn’t dwell on it. You took a look at his PADD. “The pattern of those three lines right there tell me that it’s a steady glitch in the coding. This is the work of the solar flares of a nearby sun. I’d recommend repairs on systems Quebec and Whiskey. Anything else you need?” You stepped back from Spock and wiped away a rogue tear.

    Spock stood there with his mouth open for a moment. “...No.”

    “Then have a good night, Spock.” You pushed out a smile, and turned to head back to your bed. “Try to get some rest, okay?”

    “Are you alright?” Spock’s question seemed to surprise both you and him.

    When you turned around, you saw that he had taken a step into your living quarters. It was clear on his face that he was very uncomfortable and feared he had overstepped boundaries.

    “I’m fine,” you lied.

    He stated, “You are crying.”

    “Trying to stop,” you informed through a bitter smile. It became clear that Spock wasn’t going to leave without more of an explanation. You preferred very much not to give him one. “It’s really stupid...,” you tried to deter.

    Spock straightened his stance, listening.

    “...I had a nightmare,” you admitted timidly, “...I thought I escaped my parents years ago but they’re still here,” you pointed to your temple, “in my head.”

    Quiet settled in the room.

    Then, Spock offered, “I could...stay for a while...so you don’t have to be alone.”

    You firmly insisted, “You don’t have to do that.”

    “I am aware.” Spock didn’t move from his spot.

    You didn’t know how to respond to that. It was true, you didn’t want to be alone. You opened your mouth. “Okay,” you softly agreed. “What do you want to do?”

    Spock met you with silence. He appeared to be just as unsure as you were.

    “We could watch a movie...” You approached your big screen. “All I have are Earth classics like Singin’ in the Rain, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Star Wars. Have you ever seen any of those movies?”

    He answered quietly, “My mother showed me Singin’ in the Rain. It was one of her favorite films.”

    “A woman of good taste,” you smiled, “I love that musical. Always calms me down.”

    Spock bluntly notified, “Then it could be the ideal movie to put on to calm you down from this nightmare.”

    You bit your lip in an attempt to control your smile from the straightforward remark from the Vulcan. You didn’t do a very good job. “You’re not wrong,” you responded.

    When you started the movie, you and Spock were sitting next to each other, but not touching each other at all. You sat crisscross, holding a throw pillow in your lap, and Spock sat in his usual stiff way with his hands straight out on his lap.

    Completely opposing that, you woke up in Spock’s arms the next day. He had moved into a more relaxed position, and you had laid on his shoulder at some point. By then, you were laying on his chest, and Spock’s arm hung loosely around your shoulders.

    “Oh, um...” you quickly straightened yourself when you realized your position. “Good morning, Spock.”

    Your voice and movement had woken him up. He peered tiredly at you as he sat up. “Good morning, Y/n.”

    That was the first time he called you by your first name.

    You just gazed at him, shocked into silence.

    “Well, we will be needed on the bridge soon,” he sighed, acting much more like a human than you were used to. He stood. “I will take my leave to change into a new set of clothes.” He headed toward your door.

    “Spock,” you called.

    He turned back in your direction.

    You walked across your living room and stopped right in front of Spock. Your chests were almost touching. You leaned close to his cheek, then stopped again. You wanted to make sure he was okay with what you were doing.

    He nodded just barely enough for you to see.

    You kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

    Spock’s lips parted, like he was going to say something, but then he closed them again. He just nodded. Then, Spock left.

    You felt different around the Vulcan after that. Whenever he was near, your heart beat would speed up, and you would feel heat in your cheeks. You were even lucky enough to catch eyes with him every once in a while. You always made sure to give him a smile. Once, you were sure you saw his lips turn up just a bit in response.

    Never did you ever let it affect your work, though. You barely talked to Spock after that night, but that was just because the only times you would ever see each other would be in uniform.

    All of that proved why it was such a surprise for you when Spock subtly got your attention on the bridge, six days after that intimate night you shared together. “How have you been sleeping?” he asked you quietly, his eyes on his PADD.

    It initially warmed your heart that Spock would ask such a question, but you had to bite your lip as you deliberated on your answer. You hated the thought of outright lying to Spock, especially after that night, so you told him, “Well, the nightmares are sort of a nightly occurrence, but I’m doing okay. Thank you for asking,” you finished sweetly. You told yourself that the second part of that wasn’t a complete lie. You had been doing fine with the nightmares before, and you were doing fine then.

    In response, he glanced from his work to you, and you flashed him another one of your smiles.

    You thought that was the end of it until he came to your door that night.

    “Spock? What’re you doing here?” You stepped aside and motioned that he could come in.

    He took your offer, and stepped into your living quarters. “You have not had a nightmare every night. You did not have a nightmare when we slept together. I can come here on nights when I can to make sure you sleep well.”

    Your heart skipped a beat. You knew he meant he would come to you nearly every night just to make sure you didn’t have nightmares. You simply couldn’t believe it. You peered into his eyes, feeling vulnerable. “You would do that for me?”

    He blinked, “It is imperative that all crewmembers of this ship perform admirably. This is what’s necessary for you to do so.” For a moment, it seemed he was all-business. Then, the corner of his lips turned up just enough for you to see.

    You gave him a big smile in return for that. “What movie d’ya wanna watch?”

    The two of you settled on Cars. You called for your screen to play the movie, then sat on your couch and pulled your legs under you.

    “...Y/n...?”

    You could tell your name still felt new on his tongue, and it made you smile that he still chose to use it. You turned to him. “Yes?”

    He suggested, “Perhaps you would like to lay on me as you did before? It is the most likely position that prevented your nightmares.”

    “...Are you sure you’d be okay with that?” you asked after a pause.

    “It is the most effective method...” he trailed off when he saw the ‘no bullshit’ look in your eye. He answered you, “Yes, I would.”

    A smile formed across your lips. “Okay.”

    The two of you started off in the position you were in that other night, but you eventually convinced Spock to lay down to be more comfortable. You felt unbelievably at home in his arms. It was like nothing else in the universe could penetrate the little bubble you and Spock had created for yourselves.

    Despite that, however, you couldn’t help but notice the growing tension between the two of you. You couldn’t place it. It just felt like Spock really wanted to tell you something, and he was working up the courage to do it.

    Wanting to ease whatever was on Spock’s mind, you turned to him.

    Spock wasted no time in kissing you.

    The kiss was simple. Your lips touched for a few heart-stopping moments before they parted.

    You just stared at Spock, completely in awe.

    He seemed to take your reaction as negative. “I apologize for acting so entirely inappropriate--”

    You kissed him again. Spock exhaled his worries, and leaned into you. You smiled into the kiss.

    Parting first, you kissed his cheek before you teased, “We’ve been acting ‘so entirely inappropriate’ this whole past week. You licked your lips, hoping he’d take the following proposition. “It’d be less inappropriate if we were...together.”

    He wondered, “Romantically?”

    Another smile sprouted. “Yeah.”

    Spock’s gaze wandered the room, avoiding your eyes. He detachedly commented, “I would not be opposed...”

    You quirked your eyebrows, not believing his act for a minute.

    He looked back to you, and fully smiled for the first time in front of you. It was probably his first full smile in his life. “I would be completely behind such a relationship.”

    You started laughing out of excitement. “So would I,” you happily confirmed before pulling Spock in for another kiss.

    His hand that wasn’t circled around your shoulders roamed down to your hip to pull you closer.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I have more fics over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#spock #spock x reader #star trek #star trek kelvin timeline #star trek 2009 #star trek beyond #star trek into darkness #zachary quinto #and they were watching cars #companion jones #i'm sorry i've only seen the 2009 movie i just really liked spock #tw abuse #tw parental abuse #tw nightmares #tw lack of sleep

[passioninprose]

this one is dedicated to the tos-spones channel in the mcspirk discord server. y’all are real ones. special shout-out to andie and andy for the initial concept. love y’all LLAP 🖖

---

The door to my quarters slid open with a hiss. Spock entered, and with a practiced movement he closed the door behind him without turning to look. His expression was neutral, although I could tell by the way he carried himself that he was on edge, like he usually was when he came around after working hours. 

“Good evening,” I said, standing from where I’d been sitting at my desk. He looked to me, his face (and especially his eyes) relaxing to match the energy the rest of him gave. He nodded at my greeting, but did not speak. 

I’d come to expect that. Not every time, but as we’d come to see more of each other over the past month or so, I found Spock to be reserved in a way I hadn’t anticipated. It was sweet - though he hadn’t said so to me in so many words, I’d picked up on the fact that our little tête-à-têtes hadn’t yet lost the thrill of new romance, and I could only imagine what that sort of feeling was like for him, a half-Vulcan. 

I extended my hand to him as I approached, meeting him near the center of my rooms. He held up two fingers for me, and I met them with mine in a Vulcan kiss, his touch cool and his hand steady, in spite of his apprehension. I watched him watch our hands, his eyes downcast, his face beginning to tinge with color. 

A moment passed, releasing a bit of the tension in the air as we both settled into what this meeting was for. 

“May I?” I asked him, pulling my hand from our kiss and holding my arm out wide. He met my eyes, and I felt a chill run through me. His gaze was soft, affectionate, but intense at the same time. He again did not speak his reply, but nodded and stepped in to me, the both of us wrapping our arms around each other. I resisted the urge to kiss his cheek as I settled against his shoulder, choosing to let our affections build at a slow, easy pace. 

As moments passed, I relaxed into his hold, the stress of the business of the day soothed by his touch. He held me with a gentle firmness, always so very careful with his strength. I felt like I could have completely let go of my balance in his arms, but I stood with him, and after a while, I rubbed his back and pulled away so I could see his face. 

My hands pulled toward me, resting on his upper arms as I regarded him. His hands lingered on my waist, his fingertips gripping at the sides of my shirt. His eyes, half-lidded, still had that same soft intensity to them. I think we both wanted the same thing, as after meeting each other’s gazes, both our visions dropped to our lips - his were slightly parted, and so beautifully flushed with a soft, rose color. 

I raised a hand from Spock’s arm to brush my fingers along the line of his jaw. He closed his eyes, and I let my touch round back toward his chin before I leaned in, bringing my lips to his. 

Along with the sensations of our kiss, gentle, soft, and slow, I felt an odd sense at the back of my mind’s eye. It was difficult to describe, and even more difficult to maintain awareness of, as I only ever experienced it when Spock and I touched for some length of time. And, well, as we did so, I often found myself prioritizing other sensations over the vague awareness. The best I can say is it was like the feeling of being watched, but much fainter and much less ominous. 

Our kiss grew in intensity, his lips parting for me, sharing in each other’s warmth and affection - I forgot everything that wasn’t that, wasn’t his touch. His hands stayed planted at my sides, pressing his palms into me and his fingertips still gripping, holding. 

I pulled back, letting my breath come out as a sigh. Spock’s cheeks had now fully flushed with a faint green, and I felt that mine were just as warm. 

“Spock,” I said, smiling as I felt his fingers continue to pulse against me. “You can take it off, if you like.” My shirt, I meant. Spock drew in a breath, his hands momentarily lifting away from me. 

“It’s alright,” I assured him. “Go ahead.” I lifted my arms, resting them over his shoulders and taking half a step back to give some room between our chests. 

He hesitated - I looked down, and his hands were still hovering around me. When I looked back up at him, I saw his expression shift, his brow furrowing, a quiet determination taking hold. I felt a kind of pride along with my attraction for him. 

He worked slowly at the hem of my shirt, pulling it up so that it slipped out from being tucked, and he moved along and around until it was fully freed. He hesitated again - I watched his fingers slip beneath the end of my shirt and hold it, away from my body, for a few, lengthy seconds. I felt myself blush under the weight of his complete concentration. 

With a steadying breath, he turned his hands, and allowed himself to touch my skin as he pushed up my shirt. His touch was not as cool as it had been before, having carried away some of my warmth as we embraced, and as he slowly drew his fingertips up my torso, I had to keep myself from shuddering as my skin lit up beneath him. I closed my eyes, my heartbeat picking up. 

I felt him pause, his hands just below my chest, and his grip slowly shifted, his fingertips spreading and his hands, the full length of them, pressing into my sides. I heard him draw in breath, soft but sharp, and I opened my eyes to see Spock with wide eyes and parted lips. 

For a moment, I didn’t understand, concern flashing through me at his apparent surprise. But as I watched him, so completely focused on me, on his hands touching me, I remembered - I remembered how sensitive a Vulcan’s touch is, especially of the hands, and I felt them begin to move against me, at first slow, then picking up pace and pressure. 

I stopped trying to keep myself from reacting to his touch - it was just as well, as I don’t think I could’ve managed it even if I’d wanted to. My breath hitched, I trembled in his hands, and it didn’t stop him in the least as he roamed over me, up and down my sides, across my midriff and back. The damned shirt wasn’t even off, but I didn’t blame him, I couldn’t - I could see how completely enamored he was with me, how completely overcome. I tried to imagine what it must feel like for him in the moments I wasn’t also overwhelmed.

After many breathless moments between us, Spock’s hands slowed in their journeys, and with a sigh, Spock lowered his head and pulled me into an embrace, his hands still tucked beneath my shirt. He rested his head against mine, and I damn near melted into his arms. 

“Leonard,” he said in a half-whisper, the first thing he’d said all night. “I find you to be endlessly captivating.” 

Jesus. He speaks not a word, and then that. My mind spun with how flattered I was to hear him speak that way of me. Of me!

I struggled to say anything to him, but he graced me with his patience, and finally, I said, “You’re not so bad, yourself.” He held me a little tighter - I think he knew, with his hands on me, just how much of an understatement that was. 

We stayed together for a long while, and eventually pulled apart once my heart had stopped doing its damnedest to beat out of my chest. Spock had allowed my shirt to fall almost completely back down, one of his hands holding the hem loosely at my waist. I raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Well?” I asked. I pointedly looked down at Spock’s middle, feeling a growing desire to remove his shirt as well as mine. I took a handful of the fabric, and glanced back up to Spock, a little unsure if he’d want to carry on after what we’d just done. 

Spock raised a brow in return, and smirked at me, telling me everything I needed to know. 

“Go on then,” I told him. And in the blink of an eye, our shirts were finally thrown aside. 

#spones #tos spones #discord made me do it #star trek #star trek tos

[writingsfromstarfleet]

Spock - Anniversary

♫ - Falling (In Dreams) - Telekinesis 

For the always brilliant @groovyfluxie, I hope you enjoy this! Thank you all for reading! Hugs! ♡

Four years. Time had flown by. Four years to the day that you had married the man you loved, four years since the best day of your life. Every day since had been wonderful. Spock was a wonderful husband, he couldn't do any more than he already was. Your anniversary had crept up on the both of you, given the busy work schedule, and you had prepared for him forgetting. Never had he done that in the past, but with the events of the past week taking their toll on both of you and the rest of the crew, you were hardly within right to blame him.

So it had come as a surprise when you woke up the morning of your anniversary to the smell of freshly baked bread running through your quarters. Rising, you walked to the kitchen area to determine the source. Rounding the corner, you were met with your husband, working away with his back to you.

"Good morning, ashayam." His voice was as level as always, yet it carried a soft tone that you had picked up on over the years; anybody else would fail to notice unless they were searching for it. Even after four years of marriage, the nicknames he gave you never lost their charm.

"Good morning, love," you started, walking to him and wrapping your arms around his middle. Staying turned away, he brushed his fingers against yours briefly before continuing. "What's all this?"

"I remember you mentioning a while back that you enjoyed the baked goods one your home planet, and so I have prepared you some to celebrate today."

You smiled gratefully at him, though he hadn't seen, and you stood tiptoe to press a kiss to his shoulder. Spock smiled, a rare yet beautiful thing, and proceeded to work on his masterpieces.

"You're far too kind," your voice was quiet, backing off so he could work freely, choosing to lean against the table instead. Turning, he raised his eyebrows incredulously, and you giggled. He never really did take your compliments well, especially those worded in such a fashion.

"You deserve everything, Y/N."

Spock was always sweet and caring, something others may not have expected from him. To others, he was cold and stoic, yet to you he was nothing but a hopeless romantic, showing you absolute love and adoration all of the time. That was one of the (many) reasons you had fallen in love with the Vulcan in the first place, and each and every day he proved to you that every feeling you had towards him was correct.

As the day progressed, the two of you spent it together, no thoughts of work ever crossing either of your minds. You took some time to eat and relax in the morning, idle chat filling the room, and by the afternoon, you were sat watching some old television shows that Spock had dug out, remembering how much you loved old 21st century media. These moments were what you cherished, thankful each and every day that you had Spock by your side. As you watched, you looked up at your husband, his eyes dropping down to meet yours as he felt you shift beside him.

"I love you." You knew how much you told him, at this point you definitely sounded like a stuck record. Unspoken, though, Spock felt his heart warm each time you said it to him.

"As do I you."

Night finally arrived, and you had done nothing but revel in each others company, having eaten and showered you were ready to call it a day. Standing by the window of your quarters, you gazed out on the view. Stars littered the vast space before you, each one glinting with an array of colours, lighting up the area surrounding the Enterprise. To some, it may have seemed daunting; to you it was comforting. You were where you wanted to be in every sense. Sighing, a smile graced your face. A pair of arms found their way around your waist and a kiss was pressed to the back of your head in an all too familiar feeling.

"Is everything alright?" Spock asked, voice full of care as he held you tighter. You nodded, turning in his arms to face him.

"Never has it been better."

"I hope you have enjoyed today, Y/N. I know that such dates mean a lot to humans in general. I can only wish I have lived up to those expectations."

You giggled slightly, wrapping your arms around Spock's neck, pulling him down so you could place a short kiss on his lips. He seemed confused, wondering what he had said that was humorous, accepting the kiss nonetheless.

"You have and always will be above expectations, Spock. Never have you let me down and never have you made me feel anything less than loved." You rested your head on his chest, and felt Spock pull you flush to his chest with one arm, the other finding your own hand and holding it. Looking up, you were met with his forehead meeting yours and a small smile present on his face. Your free hand cupped his face and you stood in silence together. These were moments that people on the opposite side of the door would never believe.

"Here's to many more, my love." You spoke quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"To many more." Spock repeated.

#star trek #star trek imagine #star trek x reader #star trek the original series #star trek tos #the original series #tos #spock #spock imagine #spock x reader #imagine #x reader

[klmeri]

Imagine an unknown cloudlike space entity finds it way onto the Enterprise, except this particular entity is quite benign, mayhap more so leaning towards benevolent if one considers - in hindsight, of course - the lingering effect of its unannounced visit.  The entity is a rather intelligent creature and, like many similar to its kind, has some empathetic ability regarding others, most especially it seems to the solid, strange and interesting beings who comprise the Enterprise’s crew.  In order to best communicate its intentions, it often changes shape while mind-speaking.  Thus, upon a cursory scan at arrival (not far from its initial entry point via an unmanned hatch near to one of the more private - and popular - amorous rendezvous spots on the ship), it notes one of the strongest emotions it has ever experienced since the beginning of its lifecycle.  So, using superior powers to read from those minds in that alcove an image which symbolizes this new emotion, it transforms to a shape which seems satisfactory for first contact and begins its pursuit of the ones who will speak to it.  

Floating along an oddly empty corridor, it lets the strongest mind it can sense pull it in a specific direction - and soon enough, it arrives outside a closed door and hovers there.  A moment later, a computerized whistling can be heard as the door slides back, revealing the quarry which the entity felt, a tall, looming figure who stands upon the threshold as if summoned in kind by the mind of new visitor.  Seconds of stillness pass, neither the being moving nor the entity doing more than gently hovering close by.  His scrutiny complete, the being arches an eyebrow, states, “Fascinating”, and proceeds to enter the corridor and walk away.  The entity bobs a second longer, and of course follows him.

Elsewhere, two men are pretending not to be deeply interested in each other while in fact the fluttering of their lashes and long looks have fooled no one else on the Bridge.  

“Spock’s never late,” one of them says to the other.  “Yet here I am, and here he’s not.  What do you make of that, Jim?”

“He’s on the way,” Jim says firmly, though no report has been given to the captain to confirm this matter-of-fact statement.  Then the man lowers his voice, teasing, “Bones, am I to believe you’re early on purpose?  Simply to antagonize my first officer?”

Leonard harrumphs as an answer and glances away, although quickly enough his gaze returns to catch on Jim’s.  

Their mild smolder of a stare is broken only the tell-tale ding of someone’s arrival by turbolift.  As one, the pair turns to greet their errant third.  McCoy immediately bursts out happily, “Mr. Spock!  You’re late!”

The captain is seen tamping down on a grin, but in the next moment his amused expression changes to first confusion, then a hint of delight as he rises from his chair.  “Mr. Spock,” he tuts, “what is this?”

McCoy’s eyes have widened in surprise alongside everyone else’s, but unlike the rest, his shock is accompanied by a deepening red hue to his face.  “Why, Spock,” he begins to drawl slowly, flustered by his own surprise and no doubt by some other sweeter emotion as well.

Mr. Spock, hands tucked at his back, merely looks back at the captain and the doctor a moment before stepping aside, allowing the object suspended in the air next to him to be fully viewed by a rapt Bridge crew.  It is bright red and heart-shaped, rather reminiscent of the helium balloons once widely used during celebrations of the long-ago Earth holiday known as Valentine’s Day.  Naturally one such as Jim Kirk recognized it straight away, being a man who prefers older, sappier traditions.

“Mr. Spock,” he says with a smile, moving to the upper platform, McCoy on his heels, “you shouldn’t have!”

The Vulcan raises both eyebrows this time, querying, “Sir?”

“Who’s it for?” Leonard chimes in, looking like he’s simply waiting for confirmation of what he already knows.

Spock blinks once, placidly, and says, “I see,” as if he is now in fact aware of the unfortunate misunderstanding taking place.  “Captain,” he starts, only to quickly step forward and lock a hand around the wrist of the man in question who is reaching for what he considers a beautiful gift (all-the-while murmuring appreciation for his officer’s unexpectedly romantic nature).  

“That would be highly inappropriate,” Spock remarks sharply.

Jim looks at him, surprised.  “It would?”

“But it’s for us!” Leonard argues, pursuing his mouth in consternation.

“I believe the creature is here to visit,” Spock informs them both, and the heart-shaped entity bobs in response.

Jim and Leonard snap their mouths closed as the entity proceeds to shimmer and sparkle with eagerness, signifying a strong desire to meet and learn about each of these beings so very unlike itself.

The men consider the newcomer a few seconds longer, share a look, and then return silently to the center of the Bridge.  Never has an encounter by a friendly creature inspired such abject disappointment, the remaining audience - barring one oblivious Vulcan commander - can mutually agree.  And it will be awhile before Dr. McCoy and Captain Kirk hold a conversation with said curious visitor without simultaneously sending very long, very sad looks toward their mutual crush.

The entity has understood one defining characteristic of humankind, at least.  Love is, above all else, their greatest preoccupation!

#star trek tos #headcanon #valentine's day snippet #mcspirk #or sort of pre-mcspirk

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Maybe Death is Just Going Home- A Spones Fic

The wind was soft on the back of his neck. Stroking the weak skin that was exposed. Sunrise was still underway, the blues and yellows and greens all mixing together. 

His garden was thriving under the care of his yard workers, who he'd employed to do the tough work his brittle body couldn't take anymore. The pond near the fence was full of lily pads and flowers, fish showing their faces occasionally. Flowers poked their heads up to the sky from the raised flower beds. A wind chime jingled somewhere to his right.

He remembered a time when he didn't let himself enjoy these things. The song of a bird or the way a flower bloomed. It was the days of being a strict Vulcan, of denying the emotions that drove his species to pure logic and repression, of pushing his human half to the point of breaking with every breath.

His friends helped him cultivate these sides of himself. Jim through kind words. Leonard with initial harsh behaviour, that he realised was his affection and watched it melt into true care and love. 

His heart panged at the thought of them, a pain he rarely let himself indulge in. There was little chance of seeing them again. Who knew how much time had passed for them? How old they'd be if he found a way to return home, an impossible feat, or if they'd even be alive?

There was even less of a chance of seeing Jim again. His research into finding him again had failed, even with the alternate technology he had at his disposal. There was no way to cheat death, especially one that happened in another world. They'd already done so with him and he didn't think it would be allowed a second time, or a third if you counted this universe's Jim.

He opened his eyes again. Meditation was meant to clear his head. But everything was too muddled lately to sort. He could feel the end coming. 

The skyline far away melded into the sky. Ships left and arrived from ports. Cars and trains with families all on their separated journeys. Infinite possibilities.

He turned his gaze to the grass springing up and spreading out away from the glass of the city. The growing season was coming. Flowers blooming, the sun on his face. Storms were frequenting the skies more often, the grounds soft and supple from the rain. 

He closed his eyes and smiled to himself as he felt the ache deep in his bones. Today was a good day to die.

"How old are you now?" A familiar voice pricked his ears. "And yet you can still cross your legs so wound up like that without pain?"

He opened his eyes. "Leonard." His husband.

"Who else is it gonna be?" 

He raised an eyebrow and took in what was most likely a hallucination. Leonard's hair was grey and hands worn, circa their encounter with the Klingons just before the Enterprise was decommissioned. Just before Jim went missing.

His red uniform was smooth, unwrinkled against his body. A look of mischief filled his eyes, a rare sight but a welcome one. He'd accept anything after all the years.

"You do realise that this isn't real, and therefore there is no point in conversing with you,"

Leonard feigned hurt with a hand on his heart, "I came here to give you a peaceful send-off and here I am being insulted by the man I call my husband,"

"The statistical probability of seeing you as a hallucination, in a much younger state than I left you in, is impossible, " 

"We have done many impossible things over the years,  and besides, the last time I knew, you don't have conversations with hallucinations," He crossed his arms and sat on the wall to a raised flower bed.

"What is your suggestion then?"

"I'm an angel, sent from God, to convince you to come along and die,"

"There are two faults with your proposal,"

"Two?"

"Yes, two," He said. "That is a very Christian focused theory, Leonard, and as you know my belief systems are of Surak's teachings and Judaism,"

"Last time I checked, Christians and Jews have an overlap in a religious book, our old testament, your Torah,"

Spock nodded.

"And ain't the story of Abraham in there, where he was told by God he was gonna have a kid of his own,"

"Yes, your point being?"

"And ain't the Exodus story, the one o' Moses, have God showing themselves to Moses to convince him to free the Jews,"

"These are theologically correct, Leonard, but I am still waiting for a point," He smiled again, he missed their debates.

"If those events happened in our religious books then what's saying it ain't happening right now, bringing me to you," 

"I didn't know you believed these tales so strongly, from what I believe these tales are to learn lessons from, not to take any literal meaning. And both of your examples were God showing themselves, and we both know you are not God," He looked at him. "Therefore you're not here."

"My second point was that I am ready to die, and God, being all-seeing, would know that," 

Leonard got off the wall. The look of mischief replaced by concern and love. Death had always been a sensitive subject for him. One of the most common disagreements was regarding Spock's longer lifespan. And it didn't matter how many times he told him that they could have a relationship just like any other, he knew he'd never let the subject go.

"I do have one more question," Spock continued. 

"What?"

"Your belief in angels, does it encompass the idea of the dead becoming them if they have lived good lives?"

The air wavered between them as their emotions poured into it. He thought they were both glad they knew some things without words.

"Yes,"

"Then that means that to get to me you must have died, which is counterintuitive to your plan of convincing me to die,"

"Why?"

He shuddered, his eyes filling with tears as his hands shook. "Why? Why do you think the knowledge that you died alone, without seeing me or having me by your side as you left this world,  would ease me into death?"

The image of a fragile Leonard, delirious from pain medication, calling for him with his dying breaths flashed to the forefront of his mind. He shook his head to rid himself of it but only made it clearer as the silence dragged on.

Leonard's face broke into a slight smile to ease him. He stepped towards him and reached his hands out to him.

"I knew you'd say something like that, so I want you to know I was at peace," He said. "After one hundred and eighty-three years, Spock, I was very fulfilled and welcomed it, just like your doing now," 

Their eyes locked and words ceased. Spock's head cleared, like all he needed was a conversation with him to clear up all the metaphorical mud in his head.

"Come home to me, Spock,"

And he did. Standing up from his position on the terrace and fitting perfectly into his arms like he always did. 

His hands traced the stubble on his chin as Leonard carded a hand through his hair, now black again due to his soul matching the time period. Their lips touched in a simple kiss and everything felt complete.

The sunrise dissolved away with the sounds of spring. And Spock was home once again in Leonard's arms.

And that's it! I got inspired by that scene in Beyond where AOS Spock saw a picture of the original crew and my angsty bittersweet brain got this question. How did Spock Prime die and how can I make that queer and peaceful?

I hope you enjoyed this, I enjoyed writing this!

#spock #leonard mccoy #bones #spones #aos #star trek #bear writes #spock prime #ambassador spock #leonard bones mccoy #bones mccoy #leonard horatio mccoy #leonard h mccoy #dr mccoy #doctor leonard mccoy #dr leonard mccoy #doctor mccoy #tos mccoy #tos bones #tos spock #tos spones #spock prime death #jim kirk #fluff #death #character death #happy ending #bittersweet #angst #bittersweet ending

[spacedancer1701]

Another Life - a Star Trek fic - (Chapters 61 - 65)

Sequel to ‘On Borrowed Time’

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (AOS) Pairing: McCoy x Original Female Character (Dr. Jennifer Hope) Characters: The Crew of the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701) Rating/Warnings: None Tags: Romance, Friendship, Love, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Angst/H/C, Caring/Protective/Tender/Comforting/Happy/Grumpy/Worried McCoy Word Count: This is a long one. Again. 😄 (71 chapters - 177k)

Read it on AO3: Another Life    

Chapter 61        

“Jesus, Spock! What took you so long?” McCoy barked the moment the first officer pulled his fingers off Hope’s face, darting over to where she was sitting, pale-faced and dazed, and protectively throwing his arms around her.

Condemned to inaction, not even allowed to touch her for reassurance and support while Spock and Hope had been locked in the mind-meld, McCoy had virtually been climbing the walls, one step closer to losing his mind with every passing minute. But the first officer’s instructions had been very clear in that regard.

“It has barely been ten minutes, Doctor,” the Vulcan stated calmly, and to his surprise, McCoy thought he could detect actual understanding in Spock’s voice, his suspicion substantially supported by the lack of decimal places and generally rather vague specification of the time that had passed.  

“Whatever,” he grumbled, the veins in his neck pulsating with agitation, then, noticing that Spock looked as close to exhausted as a Vulcan could, the doctor relented, asking more gently, “Are you all right? Both of you?”

“I’m fine Leonard, don’t worry” Hope smiled up at him tiredly, taking a deep breath and nestling deeper into his arms.

Spock simply nodded, briefly meeting McCoy’s eyes, then returned his gaze to Hope, as if studying her. Or maybe he was just trying to figure out how best to start the conversation that undoubtedly was in order now.

“Were those really my sons?” Hope beat him to it, her voice a heart-rending mixture of hope, dread, and plain disbelief.

“It seems they were, but I don’t have an explanation yet,” Spock responded earnestly, and the doctor nearly keeled over with shock.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded to know, but the first officer ignored him, the Vulcan’s eyes firmly fixed on Hope’s face.

“But how could I forget my own children?” Hope all but wailed, gripping McCoy’s arms hard and clinging on to them as if to a lifeline.

The doctor tightened his embrace, wanting nothing more than to be her safe haven, the rock she could hold on to in this bizarre and confusing situation, never mind his own stupefaction.

“You didn’t,” Spock replied, his voice as kind and reassuring as McCoy had ever heard it. “In fact, I think it was your love for them that opened that passage wide enough to let their memory seep through.”

“What passage?” McCoy blurted out, getting more confused with every word he heard, but finding himself still being ignored.

“What else did you find in that place?” Hope asked quietly, retreating further into the doctor’s arms, quite obviously needing to know, yet afraid to find out.

“What place?” McCoy asked meekly, not really expecting anyone to answer his questions anymore, just glad that Hope was at least aware enough of his presence to seek comfort in his touch and embrace.  

“Do you recall anything about that place?” Spock responded to Hope’s question, sounding uncharacteristically evasive, almost as if he were reluctant to divulge too much of the information he’d just gathered, even – or especially? – to her.

“Nothing. You told me to stay behind, so I did.”

“You left her alone?” McCoy flared up incredulously, allowing the strain of being a helpless bystander to manifest as rage directed towards the Vulcan.

“So, what did you find?” Hope urged the first officer, seemingly oblivious to the doctor’s outrage.

“Plenty,” was Spock’s untypically vague answer.

Another one. McCoy was starting to worry in earnest now.

“However,” the Vulcan continued, “I’d prefer to research some things and confer with the doctor in private before going into any detail with you.”

Thank God, someone’s still aware of my existence!

“Geez! Will you stop beating about the bush?” Hope exclaimed exasperatedly, pushing away from McCoy and sounding almost petulant. “Can’t you see that I need to know?”

“And you will,” the Vulcan replied calmly. “But the information is quite extensive and rather confusing. And I don’t think your mind is ready for the whole of it yet. There must be a reason for you to have blocked all of it in the first place.”

“Still, I have a right to know. It’s my mind, isn’t it?” Hope tried again, but with less vehemence this time.

The fight clearly having gone out of her, she let McCoy pull her back into his arms, rested the back of her head against his chest, and gently squeezed his hands when he softly kissed her hair, the doctor’s heart brimming over with tender affection and the desire to just wrap her up tightly and make all of her troubles go away.

“Do you trust me?” Spock asked, sitting up even straighter, his tone serious, but his eyes warm and kind.

“Of course!” Hope answered without hesitation.

“And there’s no question you trust Dr. McCoy, so will you give me permission to consult with him first?”

“Consult about what?” she shot back promptly.

“Jenny,” the Vulcan said softly, giving no indication that his patience might be wearing thin, other than, perhaps, it being the first time the doctor had ever heard him addressing Hope by her first name. “You need to know that I have been harbouring certain suspicions ever since I learned about your past.”

“What kind of suspicions?” Hope asked, sounding completely perplexed, and McCoy was immediately alert and intrigued, too.

“Well, when Dr. McCoy expressed reasonable doubt after you’d first told us about your history, I took the liberty to check some facts, and have been doing some research and a number of experiments ever since.”

“You doubted me?” Hope turned around to raise accusing eyes to the doctor, who was busy considering the best way to kill that big-mouthed first officer.

“Not you, love,” he tried to soothe her, pulling up a chair to sit down next to her while keeping one arm firmly wrapped around her shoulders. “But I did have my doubts about Starfleet’s story. You said yourself that you can’t remember anything about your illness, that the whole leukaemia scenario doesn’t seem to add up. And I told you long ago that I couldn't find any trace of it in your blood.”

“You’re right, of course, I’m sorry,” Hope sighed, leaning over to kiss his cheek, “I didn’t mean to snap at you. This is all just so frustrating and unsettling.”

“I know, love,” the doctor murmured, touching a gentle hand to her cheek, her growing distress tearing at his heart.

“Why didn’t you say anything, Spock?” Hope asked, returning her gaze to the Vulcan.

“Because none of the facts I found were actual proof. There was no conclusive evidence. Tim McGraw, for example.”

“Tim McGraw?” Hope and McCoy repeated in unison, exchanging confused glances.

“Well, you repeatedly mentioned that he and his wife were your favourite ‘Nashville couple’, as you called them, and that you loved their music. But when I researched them, I found that both their first ‘albums’ were only released in 1993, and that they didn’t get married until 1996, all of which happened after you were allegedly put into stasis. Then I included some songs from the early 21st century in the playlist that Uhura and I prepared for you. And you recognised them all.”

Hope had been listening with bated breath, her body tense under McCoy’s touch, and the doctor could only imagine how disturbing all this new information must be for her.

“So, it’s true then? I was still around after 1991? Having kids and everything?”

All the different emotions, so plainly visible on Hope’s face, the confusion, the hope, the doubt, the fear, nearly broke the doctor’s heart, adding to his own concerns and misgivings. He’d always doubted Starfleet’s official reasons for wanting to keep Hope’s history secret, suspecting that there was more to her past that they didn’t want her – or anybody else – to know.

“Well, not necessarily,” Spock explained. “There’s a 68.7% chance that you could have heard any of the songs after you arrived in our time, making you think you still knew them from before.”

“All of them?” Hope cut in, her cheeks tinged with a dark shade of pink from the excitement of all that could possibly mean, the good as well as the bad.

“No,” the first officer continued, “that would have been my next observation. The probability of you having heard all of them in this century for the first time is no more than 1.27%.”

“Oh,” was all Hope said, and McCoy thought.  

The doctor’s head was spinning with all the implications and possible consequences of this revelation, and his mind kept coming back to the mystery of Hope being a mother without having born children.

Had she been in a relationship other than that with Tom? One that she’d blocked from her memory? And if so, for what reason? That thought alone opened a whole new can of worms, instantly creating images of all kinds of abuse, sending shivers of fear and impotent rage down McCoy’s spine.

Had she, by any chance, had step-children? Or was it possible that she was in fact older than her body suggested, and actually had had children without leaving any physical marks or medical proof?

“Coming back to the matter at hand,” Spock’s voice pulled the doctor back to the present, “would it be all right with you, if I filled Dr. McCoy in on everything?”

“You mean he can know, but I can’t?” Hope gave a short, disbelieving laugh.

“Well, I did loosen all your memories, but just like when you had amnesia, you need to let them come back to you unprompted, or you’ll never know what is real and what is just a product of what you’ve been told.”

“He’s right love,” McCoy agreed softly, gently turning her around to face him. “Spock’s just trying to help.”

“I know,” Hope sighed, resting her forehead against his shoulder, and the doctor tenderly stroked her hair. “It’s just so hard. It is my life we’re talking about after all. But yes, of course, I’m all right with you learning all about me.”

And turning back to the first officer, she smiled, “Go ahead, I don’t have secrets from Leonard. Just like I suppose I don’t have secrets from you anymore.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

The Vulcan raised a bemused eyebrow, but before he had the chance to say anything, Jenny quickly added, “Just kidding, Spock. I’m really grateful for what you did!”

That seemed to appease the first officer, who gave her a curt nod before addressing McCoy, “I’d like to share as much as possible with you, Doctor, and the most efficient way to do that would be to meld with you, too. Would you allow me to do that?”

Feeling Leonard grip her shoulder sharply, Jenny turned and saw that the doctor’s face seemed almost frozen in fear.

“To be honest, Mr. Spock,” he said, and Jenny could hear a slight tremble in his voice, “I don’t feel comfortable with someone poking around in my head. You know that.”

“I’m quite aware of your reluctance, Doctor. You’ve expressed your dislike of ‘Vulcan voodoo’, as you call it, several times. But since it was you who suggested melding with Lt. Hope in the first place, I thought you might have overcome your aversion.”

Jenny had to admit that she’d thought the exact same thing, and now wondered what the story behind Leonard’s sudden change of heart was. After all, he hadn’t seemed worried about mind-melds in the least, when he’d made the suggestion. She’d have to follow that up later, when she was alone with the doctor again.

“It would only have to be a very light, superficial meld, anyway. No poking around, as you put it,” the first officer explained, but Jenny could tell that McCoy’s mind was made up.

“I’d rather not, Spock. Unless it’s imperative.”

“It is not,” the Vulcan confirmed, “but telling you everything would take much too long. I’d have to edit, tell you only what I consider the most important facts. And, of course, I’d have to ask Lt. Hope to give us the room.”

McCoy cast Jenny a questioning glance, his eyes begging her to agree, and, of course, she immediately nodded her consent. Her heart went out to the doctor, as it dawned on her just how hard suggesting the mind-meld must have been for him. More proof of how deeply he loved her, and how far he was willing to go to help her.

“Of course, anything you suggest, Mr. Spock. I’ll leave you two to discuss whatever you found in my head,” Jenny tried to sound light-hearted, getting up and smiling lovingly at the doctor, as she patiently waited for him to finish running his omnipresent tricorder over her. “Just one more thing. Is it bad?”

The first officer took a moment to contemplate her question, then met her eyes and told her, “Truthfully, I can’t be completely sure yet, but everything considered, I really don’t think so.”

Feeling somewhat relieved by Spock’s words, Jenny hugged Leonard tightly and whispered, “I love you so much!” in his ear, before leaving the room to find a quiet spot for herself and let the events and impressions of the past hour settle.

If there was anyone who could help her solve this mystery, which had taken on a whole new dimension today, it was those two marvellous men, both of whom she would trust with her life anytime.

Chapter 62        

I love you, too! More than you’ll ever know! McCoy thought fondly, following Hope with his eyes until she’d almost stepped out the door, then decided that she couldn't be left alone after what she’d just been through.

“Jenny, wait!” he called out, just in time before the doors closed behind her. “Don’t go! You really shouldn’t be alone now.”

Hope turned around and smiled, then came back to where he’d jumped up from his chair and was standing with his arms wide open for her to step in. She pressed a gentle kiss on his lips and let him hold her for a moment, hugging him tightly while he nearly crushed her, and it almost felt to McCoy as if she were trying to calm and comfort him rather than the other way round.

“We can talk later, Doctor, if you’re not comfortable to do so now,” Spock said, getting up and moving towards the door, but Hope quickly spun around to stop the Vulcan.

“No, Mr. Spock, please stay!” she exclaimed, her hands gently pushing against McCoy’s chest, clearly expecting him to let her go.

But he couldn't. She needed to be taken care of, and he needed to be there for her, hold her and talk to her. Now. She’d looked so rattled coming out of the mind-meld, and understandably so. Even if Spock had been as careful, gentle and respectful as he’d promised, the doctor had to make sure that Hope hadn’t suffered any emotional harm from having her mind probed. From having someone intrude into her most private thoughts and feelings, into her most private self. He needed to know that she didn’t feel violated in the least.

“Leonard,” she said softly, writhing in McCoy’s arms to extract herself from his embrace, “I know you want to help and protect me, but please believe me when I tell you I’m fine! And I couldn't talk to you about what’s just happened yet, anyway. I need a little time to sort this out by myself first.”

She gently took hold of his hands behind her back to bring them forward, then held them against her chest over her heart, tenderly covering them with her own.  

“The one thing you can do for me right now is listen to whatever Spock wants to tell you and discuss with you. So that he can finally, finally tell me what I really want to know. What I need to know. Can you do that for me?”

“Of course, love,” the doctor murmured, still reluctant to let her go but pulling his hands out from under hers anyway.

“I promise I’ll be all right. You’ll find me in your quarters, busy making sense of everything I’ve just experienced, and eagerly waiting for the two of you to shed some light.”

With one more, swift hug and kiss, Hope turned around and hurried out the door. And this time, McCoy didn’t stop her. Going against what every cell in his body was screaming to do, he let her go. Because she was right. To actually help her, he really needed to know what was going on. He needed Spock to tell him everything.

If only he could have agreed to a mind-meld. Quick and thorough, and Hope could have stayed here. Close to him. But he’d panicked. No matter how much he knew he could trust Spock, his subconscious just wasn’t cooperating. And neither was his body. The mere thought of someone – anyone – entering his mind had almost made him hyperventilate. He simply couldn't do it. Not even for Hope.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Barely looking at anyone who passed her by in the corridors, Jenny practically flew to McCoy’s quarters, only relaxing after the doors had closed behind her. For a moment or two, she just stood there, her mind totally blank, yet overflowing with thoughts and impressions at the same time. She was standing completely still, afraid that any random move or thought might supplant something important she’d learned during the mind-meld. The feeling that every single thing, every little detail was immensely important and couldn't be lost was almost overwhelming.

And then there was this one thing she just couldn't get her head around. She was a mother. Or was she? After all, those boys, who’d meant the world to her in her dreams, hadn’t even registered in her conscious mind until recently. She had no idea how it was even possible, but if they really were her sons, what kind of mother was she anyway? What mother would simply forget her children? And why? What had become of them? Were they still alive or had she left them in the 20th century? And how was she even old enough? She sure didn’t feel a day older than twenty-five. In fact, she’d never felt more like a young, helpless girl than she did right now.

Too many questions. Too many blanks.

Jenny prayed that it was all just a bad dream, yet she longed to be this mother from the bottom of her heart. Memories were starting to surface fast, and she felt her love for the boys grow with every single one of them, even though they all were a bit of a blur. She had no context, no idea where or when those memories belonged, but all kinds of images kept flooding her mind. Laughter, and tears, and cuddles. So real, so familiar, and yet so impossible. How could she have left her kids? And how could she ever make it up to them?

Stop! she almost cried out loud.

She had to stop this steady stream of images before it overwhelmed her. There was no use getting all worked up about something that might not even be real. No, Jenny needed to wait for Leonard and Spock to give her some answers. For Leonard to hold her and keep her head from exploding. For Leonard to make this all right. For Leonard, full stop. Jenny felt she’d never needed him more than now. Hoping to calm down, she conjured up his comforting smile, his grounding touch, his soothing voice, and tried to focus on analysing the other aspects of the mind-meld.

Until Spock had ‘met’ Sammy and Phil – when had she started using their names so naturally? – in that eerie tunnel, the whole experience had actually been pleasant. It had been nice to revisit so many memories, to share them with Spock in a way she’d never be able to share them with anyone else, not even Leonard. The way Spock had experienced her past just didn’t compare to simply recounting single episodes to someone who couldn't imagine what her ‘first world’ had been like.

Leonard melding with Spock to experience this, too, would have been wonderful. The opportunity of a lifetime. He always wanted to know everything about Jenny’s past, but no matter how attentively he listened to her tales, he’d never come close to really understand. Not like a mind-meld would have made possible. But, of course, Jenny respected that he hadn’t wanted that. Although she’d really have to get to the bottom of why Spock’s suggestion had scared him so much that, for a second, he’d looked like he might pass out with fear.

He must have gone through some really traumatising experience with a mind-meld, even though Jenny had no idea where or when that might have been. Leonard had never talked about or even hinted at anything like that. But then, he wouldn’t, would he? Concerned as he always was about her well-being, Jenny often felt that he didn’t seem to care a lot about his own. That had become her responsibility. And one she took very seriously.

She’d definitely follow up the mind-meld issue once the current mystery was solved. One thing at a time, though. There was no use trying to get the doctor to deal with his own problems while he was still helping Jenny with one of hers. She knew him that well. For now, she really needed to focus on making sense of her own mind-meld experience. But while she was waiting for news from Spock and McCoy, her thoughts kept circling back to Leonard’s intense reaction.

Having felt increasingly uneasy herself, when she’d followed Spock through that winding tunnel, until he’d finally convinced her to let him go on alone, Jenny understood that a mind-meld could also be a less than pleasant experience. But although she’d certainly felt reluctant and afraid of what they might find, at no point had she felt overpowered or pressured in any way. Spock had been nothing but gentle and supportive, and she’d felt well protected the whole time. He’d thoughtfully guided her through the whole process, just like he’d guided her through that daunting bomb-defusing task on her very first mission.

No, while admittedly difficult in parts, the mind-meld hadn’t been a scary or threatening experience at all. Whatever had Leonard so terrified, must have been something else entirely. And certainly nothing to do with Spock, because in that case, the doctor would never have let her meld with him in the first place. And judging from Spock’s reaction, although obviously anticipating a certain reluctance regarding ‘Vulcan voodoo’, the first officer had seemed rather surprised by McCoy’s categorical refusal, too.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“So, please spill, Mr. Spock,” McCoy burst out as soon as he’d pushed all concerns about Hope to the back of his mind, trying to fully concentrate on what the Vulcan had to say. “What did take you so long? I was really getting worried there!”  

“There was a lot to discover,” the first officer replied mildly. “A whole new life full of memories. Besides, with the human mind it’s not always easy to tell fact from fiction. And you wanted me to find out about facts, didn’t you?”

“Yes, of course. Sorry, Spock,” the doctor relented. “But this not knowing is driving me up the walls.”

“Understandable,” was the Vulcan’s short response, before his earlier words suddenly hit home.

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘a whole new life full of memories’?” McCoy was stumbling over his words. “Tell me everything, Spock! And you’d better start from the beginning!”

So the first officer filled him in, trying to be as concise as possible, and the doctor’s eyes grew wider with every word coming out of the Vulcan’s mouth.

“You’re actually suggesting that she’s a mother of two, and that those boys are, in fact, her sons?” McCoy summed up what he’d just heard, his voice audibly incredulous.

“I believe that is what I just said,” Spock confirmed, and the doctor could practically hear the sigh that the first officer skilfully suppressed.

“But how could that be? Even if, disregarding all medical proof to the contrary, she’d had a baby as young as, say, fifteen, that kid could have been no more than five years old when she was put into stasis.”

“As I have already told Lt. Hope, I do not have an explanation yet. That is why immediate historical research is essential, and I presume that you would like to help me.”

“You bet I would, Spock,” McCoy eagerly announced, ready to get going at once. “Where do we start? What’s your theory? You do have a theory, don’t you?”

“Indeed, I have several,” the Vulcan nodded. “But I haven’t yet informed you about everything, Doctor.”

“What else, Spock?” McCoy glared at the first officer. “You told me she has two teenage sons, that Dakunia is somehow involved in all this, what else can there be?”

Exasperated, the doctor felt himself growing annoyed with Spock, fully aware of how unfair it was to vent on his friend, but helpless to stop himself. Spock was only the messenger, trying to help. But thankfully, the Vulcan had known him long enough not to take offence at his outbursts. Or at least the doctor hoped so.

“When I told you I saw Hope with her sons,” Spock went on seemingly unmoved by McCoy’s desperate rant, “I failed to mention that it wasn’t the Hope we know I saw, but an older version of her. A version that seems to have lived a completely different life.”

The doctor felt his jaw drop at that last revelation.

“So, you’re saying our Hope has a counterpart in another reality, to whom she is somehow, magically connected and whose memories she shares? Or that our Hope didn’t come from another time but another universe?”

Just saying the words ‘another universe’ out loud sent unpleasant shivers down McCoy’s spine and made his hair stand on end.

“I believe either is possible, certainly to be considered in our investigations, even though I cannot see magic being involved,” Spock replied, then, as if reading the doctor’s mind, added, “But whatever universe it might include, rest assured that it’s not the universe you, the captain, Lt. Uhura, and Mr. Scott had the dubious pleasure to spend some time in. Remember, I have met your counterparts, and neither our Hope, nor the Hope I have encountered during the mind-meld were in any way similar to those ‘people’.”

Despite himself, McCoy had to smile at the way Spock almost spat out the word ‘people’, clearly not impressed with their personalities and behaviour, even though he’d proclaimed that he’d found them ‘quite refreshing’ at the time. Apparently, the Vulcan wasn’t above teasing his friends now and then.

“I’m relieved to hear that,” the doctor sighed, looking expectantly at the Vulcan. “So, what are we going to do now?”

“I suggest we consult the ship’s history banks, in case Hope came from our own universe’s past after all.”

“But you already did that when she first told us, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did. But with the additional knowledge we have now, we might still find something new there.”

“I know you, Spock! You’ve already got something in mind, haven’t you?”

“Indeed, I do, Doctor. As far as I remember, one of the women sharing Hope’s name went missing for a few days in 2016. It might be a good idea to start our investigations there.”

“2016… She would have been forty-five then!” McCoy murmured, his head spinning with the sheer craziness of the idea, trying and failing to picture Hope at nearly his age. “God, even Sherlock Holmes with his sublime deductive skills would throw in the towel at that. You know, the …”

“I know, Doctor, I am familiar with the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,” Spock cut him short.

“Of course, you are,” the doctor mumbled, slightly miffed.

Spock raised an eyebrow and cast him what might almost have been a long-suffering glance.

“Why don’t you check in on Lt. Hope, which I expect you are anxious to do, while I select and access the required computer banks?” the Vulcan suggested softly. “I would advise you, however, not to tell her anything we’ve just discussed until we have any of it verified.”

Biting back the cutting retort that was on the tip of his tongue, McCoy gratefully nodded at Spock, then rushed out of his office to find Hope.

Chapter 63        

McCoy raced along the corridors with a worried frown plastered to his face, people jumping aside to let him pass, thinking he was on his way to an emergency, when, in fact, he just couldn't get to his quarters fast enough to check on Hope. The whole way, he tried to think of words of comfort and reassurance, anything he could say to ease her pain and confusion at learning that, against all odds, and certainly against all medical and physical evidence, she might actually be a mother. And not just that, but a mother who seemed to have abandoned and forgotten all about her children.

Just the idea was so absurd and farfetched, it would have made him laugh out loud, had it not been so unsettling and downright scary. Hope being a mother, however medically impossible, he could imagine. She had all the warmth, the caring, the love. And, thinking back on the way she’d treated the kids they’d encountered since he’d met her, she’d certainly known what she was doing. He’d thought she was a natural at the time, daydreaming about a life where she was Joanna’s mother, but now he wondered if it hadn’t been much more than just aptitude.

However, the idea of Hope abandoning her kids, for whatever reason, was inconceivable. She wouldn’t – couldn't – do that in a million years. The doctor was one hundred percent sure of that. She’d rather die than let any harm come to the people she loved. Or to anyone, for that matter. She’d proven it time and again. It was one of the things he loved and adored most about her, even though it was, of course, also one of the things that caused him the most worry. No, the only plausible explanation was that this was all just some fabrication of a mind that had spent too much time – centuries – in stasis.

He was probably just getting stressed out over nothing. McCoy really hoped so. But until they managed to find tangible proof either way, he had to help Hope get to terms with all the implications and possibilities. She needed him to keep her sane, and calm, and confident that she hadn’t done anything wrong, that she was still the same, decent woman she’d been yesterday. Because she was. Whatever this was about, she was nothing but kind, loyal, and responsible. He didn’t have the slightest doubt about that. Even if any of this were actually true, there had to be an explanation that would prove her still to be the woman he loved. Had always loved, and would love forever.

By the time he entered his quarters, the doctor still hadn’t come up with anything helpful to say, but, in the end, it didn’t matter, because he found Hope fast asleep on the bed, still in her uniform, her boots carelessly discarded on the floor next to her. To McCoy’s relief, she looked peaceful and relaxed, and when she didn’t react to his tentatively stroking her face, he decided to let her sleep and go back to Spock.

Absentmindedly picking up her boots and putting them neatly to the side, as always fascinated by how small they looked in his hands, the doctor stayed for another couple of minutes, just gazing at his darling Hope. How many times had he watched her sleep? In sickbay, on missions, right here in this bed. Beautiful, enchanting Hope. His heart did the same little flip it always did, when he was reminded of how lucky he was to have her. To be able to take care of her. Marvelling at being the one she’d chosen to give her heart to.

Regarding her now, she looked, more than ever, like this sweet, young girl, barely a woman, triggering every protective instinct in him. Maybe there was a mystery surrounding her, maybe there wasn’t. But if there was, McCoy was pretty sure that Starfleet was somehow involved. They’d put incredible strain on Hope once, by burdening her with this unnecessary secrecy about her past. And he wouldn’t be surprised, if they’d done it again. If there was something bigger behind it, something that would explain all the secrecy in the first place.

Taking the covers from his side of the bed, the doctor tenderly pulled them up around her shoulders, silently promising that he’d find out the truth, no matter what it took. Then he bent down to softly kiss her forehead and quietly left his quarters, ordering the lights out before he did.

-x-x-x-x-x-

When McCoy returned to his office, Spock briefly glanced up from the computer screen, where he was speed-reading through a whole stack of colourful record tapes.

“How is Lt. Hope?” he asked, removing one tape and replacing it with another.

“She’s asleep,” the doctor replied, coming to stand next to the Vulcan and trying to figure out what Spock was reading, as the words scrolled by far too quickly for him to make out.

“Good,” the first officer said, “a mind-meld, especially when it is the first one, can be a thoroughly exhausting experience.”

McCoy decided not to give that information too much thought. He had more urgent matters to worry about.

“All right, Mr. Spock, what have you found so far?” he all but snapped, his impatience once again getting the better of him.

“Well, from the limited historical documentation we have access to on the Enterprise, which, unfortunately, doesn’t include any visual material, I can confirm that the Jennifer Hope who went missing for two days in 2016, indeed had two sons named Samuel and Philip.

“So, she came from our own universe, after all,” the doctor murmured, for some reason feeling immensely relieved by the fact, even though the realisation that the two boys weren’t just a figment of Hope’s imagination was rather disturbing.

“Not necessarily, Doctor,” the Vulcan corrected him. “I said ‘who went missing for two days’. After that, she apparently returned to her family and lived to be 97.8 years old.”

McCoy frowned in confusion.

“Do we know why she went missing? Where she spent those two days?”

“Unfortunately not,” Spock replied, and he almost sounded frustrated. “According to this news article, it happened during a trip to New York City with a friend, where she failed to return from the ladies’ room in a restaurant after dinner, then claimed to simply have woken up in bed in her hotel room, completely unaware that she had missed almost two days. Her friend had gone to the nearest police station and reported her missing immediately, but not a lot of effort was put into the search, as the common procedure at the time seems to have been to wait for 36 hours before taking action. The headline says ‘Abducted by aliens?’, but Ms. Hope is quoted to ‘not believe in such things’ and apparently submitted herself to a hospital to check for any health issues or evidence of having been in an accident or subjected to any crime or drugs.”

Under different circumstances, the doctor might have been amused by Hope not believing in aliens. But as it were, he turned another shade of pale with every word Spock said, imagining all sorts of horrors that she might have run into before, once again, waking up alone and confused, not in another time, but still in a foreign country far from home. Why did she always have to go through such things? If it had even been her, of course, but after her time in stasis and her bout with amnesia, this sounded suspiciously like something that would happen to Hope. It was a long shot, basing their assumptions on a single article from an ancient newspaper, of course, but something deep down told him that it had been Hope. His Hope. And if his years on the Enterprise had taught him anything, it was that his gut feeling was usually right, and that anything was possible.

“But if she returned after less than two days, and lived out her life in the 21st century, how can she be here?” he wondered out loud, meeting Spock’s eyes and looking at him imploringly. “Please tell me that you’ve come up with a different, logical answer than I just have.”

The Vulcan hesitated slightly.

“Well, disregarding all possibilities involving other universes, there is only one explanation I can think of, but which you will not like,” he said softly. “I can only assume that she will return to her past at some point in time that is still ahead of us.”

“When she’s forty-five,” McCoy whispered, blindly grabbing for a chair and sitting down, the thought of losing Hope, even twenty years from now, nearly killing him.

Spock looked at him with a very un-Vulcan expression of compassion on his face, and for a brief moment, the doctor almost thought he was going to give him a hug, but in the end the first officer settled on putting a comforting hand on McCoy’s shoulder.

“Why can’t she remember anything about her life after 1991? And how is she not forty-five years old now, anyway? I mean, just look at her! Nothing fits, nothing adds up, we’re missing something big here, Spock, but what?”

“I must agree with you, Doctor,” the Vulcan responded, lifting his hand off the doctor’s shoulder and pushing back his chair. “But at the moment, I’m afraid I cannot give you any answers. I have already put in a request for more detailed records of the years in question to Earth’s historical archives, but they will take a few days to arrive.”

“God, what am I supposed to tell Hope when she wakes up?” McCoy buried his face in his hands, feeling terribly helpless. “She’s confused enough as it is, and she’s counting on us to come up with answers.”

“I suggest you tell her about her namesake going missing in 2016, and that we’re looking into it,” the first officer advised. “Maybe it will trigger some kind of memory. I also recommend we take this to Captain Kirk. Since Admiral Dakunia seems to be somehow involved, I assume that he knows far more about all this than we do.”

“Yeah, you’re right Spock. Jim needs to know,” the doctor nodded his head emphatically. “And we should definitely contact Dakunia and demand that he come clean about this whole sordid affair. I’ve always felt that Starfleet hasn’t given us all the facts and is holding back on the truth. Might they also be responsible for her not remembering?”

“Doctor,” the first officer looked thoughtful, “Could any of her special medication cause memory repression?”

McCoy looked appalled.

“Well, there’s something she takes for her eyes, and something to strengthen her bones, but they have no psychosomatic components whatsoever. There are also some special food supplements, but no. And then there’s...” he hesitated, not even wanting to pursue the thought.

“Yes Doctor?” Spock prompted, instantly picking up on McCoy’s reluctance to voice his suspicion.

“Some hormonal stuff she needs to adjust to this time that could have side effects such as depression or mood swings, but luckily, Hope doesn’t suffer from either. And even if it did affect her in some minor way, it could never completely block certain parts of her memory.”

“Are you sure? Isn’t that a medication explicitly designed to her individual needs by Starfleet Medical?” the Vulcan persisted.

“Well, it is, but that would be completely unethical. Totally unacceptable!” the doctor was outraged.

“But possible?”

“I guess so, yes,” he conceded, feeling his hackles rise at the mere possibility.

“We are talking about someone in Starfleet wanting to hide something,” Spock went on, looking unfazed by what he was implying. “They might not be too concerned about ethics. Could you find out?”

“You bet I could,” McCoy growled. “I’m going to the lab this instant. But I’d better not find anything! I’ve analysed the substance before, of course. I’d never give my patients anything that I haven’t verified. But now I wonder if I looked closely enough. I could never forgive myself, if I failed to check for some hidden component that I just wasn’t expecting. I’m certainly going to double-check!”

-x-x-x-x-x-

To his great relief, McCoy couldn't find anything untoward with Hope’s medication, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something very wrong going on, and that Starfleet – or at least someone in Starfleet – knew exactly what that was.

While Spock went to see the captain to inform him about everything that had transpired during and after the mind-meld, the doctor returned to his quarters. Hope was awake now, jumping up from where she’d been curled up on the couch the moment he stepped through the door, and McCoy’s heart sank at the expectant look on her face.

“Leonard!” she exclaimed, eager eyes fixed on his. “I’ve been waiting here for ages! What have you found?”

“Come on, love,” he smiled, stalling for time as he wrapped one arm around her waist and gently steered her back over to the couch. “Let’s sit down. It’s not much, but we found something interesting.”

“Oh tell me already, don’t keep me in suspense!” Hope groaned, but obediently sank down into the couch next to him.

“All right,” McCoy exhaled deeply and, seeing her eyes tremble with fearful anticipation, couldn't help taking another moment to hug her tight and kiss her hair, which she bore with a rather impatient sigh. “Spock found out that one Jennifer Hope, whose age and other dates conform with yours, had a strange experience on a trip to New York City with her friend Nicole in the year 2016.”

“2016?” Hope repeated dazedly, her voice trembling in time with her eyes now. “What kind of experience? I’ve never been to New York, and I never had a friend called Nicole!”

“Maybe you did then,” the doctor softly suggested, gently tracing the frown lines on her forehead with his thumb. “Is there anyone you know by that name? Some acquaintance who might have become a closer friend over the years?”

He’d really hoped that the name would trigger some kind of memory, that there would be some spark of recognition.

“No one I can think of,” she shook her head. “Unless you count someone who I went to kindergarten with and never saw or heard from again after that. But anyway, what strange experience were you talking about?”

“Well, apparently this Jennifer Hope took a trip to the restroom in a restaurant during dinner with her friend, and didn’t show up again until almost two days later in her hotel room without any recollection of where she’d spent the time she’d been unaccounted for.”

“Go on!” Hope’s voice was barely more than a whisper, prompting McCoy to protectively gather her in his arms once more.

The need to hold and protect her had always been strong, but now, with the possibility of a time limit to their happiness, he felt like holding on to her and never let go again.

“Then she returned home to her family and lived to be almost a hundred years old,” the doctor concluded softly.

“So, what makes you think it might have been me? She was only gone for two days, and I’m not anywhere close to forty-five, am I?”

“No, you’re certainly not,” McCoy agreed, cupping her sweet, youthful face in his hand, “but this woman had two sons called Samuel and Philip.”

Hope’s eyes went wide, and she inhaled sharply, but when she opened her mouth, no words came out. So the doctor just silently held her, giving her time to digest all this new and disturbing information.

“But still,” she muttered when she’d found her voice again, “what you’re basically saying is that I’m forty-five and left my kids behind?”

“All I’m saying is that a woman with your name and date of birth went missing,” the doctor replied, his chest tightening at the shock and pain in Hope’s eyes. “But no matter how, or if at all, you’re connected to her, she never abandoned her children!”

McCoy felt Hope sag against him, sensing her dismay and confusion as clearly as if they were his own, whishing he could make all of this go away just by letting her hide in his arms forever.

“So, you don’t remember a friend called Nicole, but do you remember anything else apart from the boys?” the doctor probed gently.

“No, nothing really,” Hope sighed. “I feel I might have been a teacher, but I can’t actually remember it. Can you tell me more about this woman?”

“I’m sorry, love,” McCoy shook his head, “there’s not much to go on besides this one article in the Enterprise’s computer banks. We’ll have to wait for the data Spock requested from Earth’s historical archives. But even then, we really shouldn’t tell you too much, since, like with your amnesia, it’s vital that you remember things by yourself.”

They fell silent again, both of them lost in their own thoughts, the doctor tenderly stroking Hope’s hair and rubbing her back, as she snuggled ever closer into his embrace.  

After a couple of minutes, McCoy decided to bring up something else.

“Spock also mentioned that Admiral Dakunia was there when you came out of stasis in this century. Or at least shortly after. That he helped you with your decision to join Starfleet.”

“Oh my God, you’re right!” Hope exclaimed, pulling back to look at the doctor in astonishment. “I’d completely forgotten about that. Somehow everyone looked the same when I woke up. He did seem familiar at the Academy, but I never realised where I’d seen him before. To be honest, everything about waking up and the immediate time after is rather hazy. It was a scary time, hard to accept that this was my new reality, and I try not to think back to that time too much.”

“I understand,” McCoy said softly, pulling her back into his arms, his heart breaking at the thought of her going through all of that on her own.

How he wished he could have been there for her from the start!

“Spock’s requested records of the late 20th and early 21st century will shed some light,” he murmured against her hair, “and, with Jim’s help, we’re hoping to finally get the whole truth from Dakunia, so that we can put an end to all this speculation and uncertainty. I’d much rather make wedding plans with you instead.”

“You still want to marry me? Even though you don’t know who I really am anymore?” Hope asked, and it hurt the doctor to hear the genuine surprise in her voice.

“What kind of question is this?” he shot back a little more forcefully than intended. “Of course I still want to marry you! Listen, Jenny, nothing can change the way I feel about you. Not even the most mysterious of mysteries. And I know exactly who you are. You’re the most amazing, wonderful, brilliant, and kind woman I’ve ever met. And even though I can’t for the life of me understand why you agreed to marry this old country doctor, there’s nothing I want more than to be your husband. To love you and take care of you for the rest of my life.”

Hope gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes filling up at his fervent speech, yet not seeming quite convinced.

“You’re aware that I might be an old woman now?” she chuckled, but her attempt at a joke came out as a rather serious question.

“Still younger than me, so that’s hardly old,” McCoy admonished with a good-natured smile. “But you know that I’ve always been drawn to your wisdom and maturity.”

It was true, he’d always felt her to be much wiser than her young years.

“And it certainly wouldn’t surprise me in the least, if you were a mother. You have all the wonderful qualities.”

“Perhaps we’re really not too far apart in age,” Hope mused, sounding more upbeat and confident again. “Maybe that’s why our apparent age-difference was never of consequence to us.”

“Maybe,” the doctor drawled, remembering the many misgivings he’d had about their age-difference for so long, but deciding that now was not the time to bring them up. “And although I’m far from complaining about your perfect, delightfully young body, you know that it’s not the reason I fell for you. At least I hope you do.”

All of a sudden, McCoy’s desire to comfort and reassure Hope turned into a very different, but no less urgent desire. And from the way she pressed against him, her hands starting to worm their way under his shirt, eager to touch skin, it seemed she felt exactly the same way.

“If there is such a thing as soulmates, love,” he breathed against her lips, more than happy to let go of all troubling and unsettling thoughts for the moment, “that’s us.”

Chapter 64        

Jenny was lying in the dark, her thoughts going round in circles inside her head, Leonard’s solid presence against her back, his arms tightly wrapped around her, the only thing keeping her from going insane, his even breathing and occasional gentle snore soothing her like no meditation tape ever could.

Despite having had enough sleep this afternoon already, she’d dozed off for a moment after their exquisite lovemaking, but now she was as wide awake as anyone could be, her thoughts ricocheting between fearful speculations of what might lie ahead of her, and tender memories of only minutes ago.

Making love to Leonard, and having him make love to her, was always glorious. But tonight, he’d really tried to outdo himself. And successfully so, she smiled to herself, sighing contentedly and backing up even closer against his chest, revelling in the way his arms closed a little tighter around her every time she moved, his endearing protectiveness, even in his sleep, never failing to fill her heart with a kind of love she hadn’t known existed before she’d met the doctor.

It had been one of their mind-blowing nights, with Leonard being unfailingly considerate even in the throes of passion. His mild dirty talk – toned down for her sake, no doubt –  and gentle swearing, always such a turn-on and so different from the way he was outside of bed, had been hotter and more erotic than ever. His touch remaining gentle and tender, even as he loved her as roughly and possessively as she craved him to. A predator who could make you feel safe and cherished while ravaging you in the most delicious way.

But she felt there had been more to it tonight. The urgency and intensity of his lovemaking, the way he’d looked at her, held her, almost as if he were afraid it could be the last time. Now there was a really frightening thought. Was he afraid of losing her? And why? She was aware that he probably hadn’t told her everything. Spock had made it very clear that she would have to remember the details on her own. But she’d felt that Leonard was really worried, that he wanted to protect her from something he knew. But what did he know that she didn’t?

Stop imagining things! Jenny admonished herself. He’s always worried, this was just his way of showing you how much he loves you, no matter what.

It sure had taken her mind off everything else, just as he’d probably intended in the first place, if she knew him at all. And just what he’d needed, too. Because it was always their troubles, their problems, their worries, never hers, she thought affectionately.

Before Leonard, Jenny had never thought it possible that anyone could take her fears, her pains, her worries to heart the way he did. But he’d always taken everything concerning her very personally. Even long before they’d been in a relationship. She vividly remembered the night she’d told him about that unpleasant experience with her friend’s father, smiling at the memory of how the doctor had got all worked up about it.

And the night after in the cave. How careful he’d been not to do anything that might even remotely be considered indecent. And yet, how tenderly he’d ended up holding her. How safe and protected she’d felt in his arms that night. How geborgen. And how unspeakably happy. It was still one of her most treasured memories, one of the most perfect moments of her life, sending the warmest, most loving feelings through her whole being every time she recalled it.

And right now, Jenny was feeling the same way. Sure, she was still scared of all the things she might find out about herself, her past, afraid of the hurt, the emotional fallout, and that Leonard might be disappointed or worse. But no matter what might come to light, she just didn’t see him turning away from her in disgust. He even still wanted to marry her, convinced that there was nothing he could find out about her that would change his mind. Or his feelings for her. There hadn’t been the slightest hesitation in his voice when he’d said that. Quite the contrary, he’d been actually stung by her questioning it.

She simply knew that he’d always stand by her, always protect and help her, absolutely certain that his love was strong enough to overcome anything. That she could always count on him no matter what. Because even without a mind-meld, Leonard seemed to see right into her soul. He might tell her how beautiful she was all the time, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love to hear that from him. But it was clear that he really saw past her looks, past her body, and that he loved what he saw underneath even more. By far the greater compliment and filling her with a strong sense of gratitude.

Gratitude to fate for bringing them together, for giving her a place in his heart and in his life. Because whatever lay ahead of her, she’d manage with him by her side. Leonard always knew what to do. He’d even come up with the idea of the mind-meld, fully prepared to face and overcome his own fears for her. As long as she was with him, she’d be safe. It had always been like that. He was her guardian angel.

-x-x-x-x-x-

McCoy was sifting through reports and supply requests in sickbay, his mind only half on the task, a constant stream of questions and theories seeming to circulate through his body in his bloodstream and ending up in a tight knot in his belly.

When he’d woken up that morning, wrapped around Hope’s delicate, familiar frame, he’d experienced a blissful moment of serenity, his body and mind still tingling with the heavenly pleasures of the evening before. But within seconds, it had all come back to him, and Hope’s eyes, trying so hard to conceal her inner turmoil, had of course only fuelled the churning in his stomach.

“Thank you for always being there for me,” she’d said in that small voice she unconsciously used when she was feeling afraid and insecure, twisting his heart.

“Where else would I be, love?” he’d asked, gently cupping her face in his hand and gazing at her intently, needing her to understand that he would never, ever, turn his back on her, his chest tightening at the almost guilty look on her face.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she’d chuckled, briefly closing her eyes as she’d leaned into his touch, a gesture so endearing and familiar, he was nearly washed away by the huge wave of tenderness it generated. “It’s just, I never meant for my silly flashbacks to turn into such a big deal. But, boy, am I ever glad to have you along for the ride!”

“Never apologise for needing me,” he’d replied, almost crushed by the sudden desire to simply wrap her up and keep her safe, then added with a smile, as he remembered what she’d told him before Iridis. “I might not be able to, or even want to, protect you from living your life, but I can sure as hell be by your side every step of the way. Maybe you still don’t get how serious I am about you, how important you are to me. And maybe you never will. But believe me when I say that being there for you is my reason for living. All I want is for you to be happy and safe.”

He might have been a bit over-emotional, a little over-dramatic there, but judging from Hope’s expression and the passionate kiss that followed, his words had been exactly what she’d needed to hear at the time. Something to hold on to, the rock to cling to, throughout the rapids of her past and whatever they might bring to the surface with every new memory that emerged.

Seeing how flustered and on edge she was, McCoy had suggested taking her off duty for the day, wanting her to take it easy, but she’d quickly convinced him that, if he could work his shift, then so could she. Besides, he couldn't disagree when she’d pointed out that the best she could hope for until Spock’s requested data arrived, was to be too busy to allow her mind to dwell on all kinds of constantly changing, increasingly absurd speculations.

In typical Hope manner, while they’d been getting dressed, she’d even made him laugh by coming up with silly jokes about her situation.

“Just imagine,” she’d told him, eyes wide in mock-amazement, “if I actually were forty-five, I’d be older than the captain!”

Then she’d squinched up her face in that adorable way she had whenever a particularly funny thought struck her, and the doctor’s heart had melted when he’d heard genuine giggles coming out of her mouth.

“And even better,” she’d snorted, falling into his arms and laughing so hard, all he’d been able to do was hold her and lovingly nuzzle her hair, until she’d recovered enough to speak again. “I’d actually be old enough to be Pavel’s mother!”

McCoy smiled at the memory. Trust Hope to find something hilarious in any situation, some reason to be cheerful, even when her whole life as she knew it was threatening to fall apart.

-x-x-x-x-x-

It was early afternoon, when Kirk and Spock showed up in his office, their faces, no, make that Jim’s face, serious and grim. Without preamble, the captain plonked himself down into the chair opposite the doctor’s, while the first officer remained hovering in the background.

“Would you have told me eventually, Bones?” Kirk asked in an accusing tone, the irritation plain on his face. “Or was I just lucky that you got Spock involved?”

McCoy opened his mouth to answer, but the captain held up a hand to silence him and, heaving a sigh, went on, “Anyway, I sent a message to Dakunia requesting complete clarification of the situation last night, and his reply and offer of a subspace conference at 1500 hours just came in.”

“That fast?” the doctor muttered, once again impressed by Jim’s ability to get quick results. “Your request must have really struck a nerve!”

“Well,” the captain grinned smugly, his earlier irritation giving way to sincere concern for his friend and Hope, “I might have implied that I’m not happy at all with more mysteries regarding Hope coming to light, and that I wouldn’t hesitate to go through all the official channels and make this a very public issue, if he failed to co-operate.”

“Good on you, Jim!” McCoy smiled, feeling immensely blessed to have the unfailing support of friends like Kirk and Spock. “I’ll go get Hope.”

“Don’t!” the captain stopped him. “Not just yet. Spock and I have decided to talk to Dakunia alone first. Just the three of us.”

“We have no idea what the admiral is going to tell us, Doctor,” the first officer spoke up, and the doctor nodded reluctantly. “Nor do we know if he is planning to tell us the whole truth this time. I believe it would be better not to expose Lt. Hope to his explanations before we have a chance to verify them.”

“You’re right, Spock,” McCoy agreed with a sigh, grateful for the Vulcan’s foresight and touched by his thoughtfulness, then chuckled dryly, “I’d better try to stay out of Hope’s way until then, because she’ll know something’s up the moment she sees me.”

“How fortunate then, that she will be ‘tied up’, as you’d say, in a meeting of her own until at least 1700 hours today,” the first officer said with his straightest Vulcan face. “I’ve just asked her and her colleagues to help me with a particularly urgent linguistic matter, which has only come up this afternoon.”

Kirk and McCoy turned to look at Spock as one, the doctor searching the Vulcan’s face for any trace of smugness while the captain beamed at him with unconcealed admiration.

“You’re a sly fox, Mr. Spock,” McCoy muttered under his breath, feeling a pang of deep affection for his friend. “Why do I keep underestimating you?”

“Indeed, why do you, Doctor?” Spock replied, raising a quizzical eyebrow and allowing the corners of his mouth to curl into the merest hint of a smile before turning around and making to leave sickbay with a polite nod at Kirk.

“Indeed, why do you, Bones?” the captain echoed, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he clapped an amused hand on his friend’s back, then followed on his first officer’s heels, calling over his shoulder, “See you at 1500 hours in the main briefing room!”

-x-x-x-x-x-

McCoy couldn't remember feeling this nauseous with nerves since his finals at medical school. But sitting here in the briefing room now, waiting to hear whatever Dakunia had to tell them, it was as if his stomach had been turned inside out. When Jim offered to poor him coffee, it was all he could do not to throw up in the captain’s face.

The sheer number of possibilities of what he was about to learn, all the atrocities Starfleet might have put Hope through, was doing his head in. He would have liked to get up and pace, but he needed to keep calm, and his wits about him for Jenny’s sake. He had to be at his most alert, prepared to hear all sorts of incredible stories and excuses, and be able to sniff out half-truths, maybe even downright lies.

Considering all that he’d found out with Spock’s help so far, he couldn't even begin to imagine what might be a plausible explanation. How any of this could turn out making sense at all. Of course, he’d come across the most incredible phenomena out here in space, things he’d never have thought possible, had he not seen them with his own eyes. And he was well aware that there were still way more things beyond his comprehension than there were cells in his body.

He knew that nothing was impossible, and that things were rarely as they seemed. But he also knew from the bottom of his heart that there was nothing fake or deceptive about Hope. That she was as real, sincere and straightforward as anyone could be. That however she’d really ended up in this century, and he’d always suspected that this unconvincing leukaemia story was not the true reason, would come as much as a surprise to her as it would to him.

It was up to him to make sure Dakunia didn’t fob them off with more fabricated stories. Hope was depending on him to find out the whole truth this time. To get Dakunia to admit everything, so she could finally make sense of all her flashbacks and déjà vus and stop worrying about her sanity. Whatever the real story behind all this, the only thing that really mattered was that she was here now. Healthy, happy, successful. And wonderful. He would do everything in his power to help her get to terms with whatever she’d have to deal with. Whatever it took to help her finally leave the past behind and move on.

She might never be the same again, of course. The missing pieces of her past would certainly change her in ways he couldn't yet predict. But they couldn't change her personality, the amazing person she was. Nothing could change her love of life, her brilliance, her kindness. And he dearly hoped that it wouldn’t change her love for him. Or take her away from him. Because no matter how well he understood that she might want to go back to her family one day, how much more her sons certainly needed her than he did, just the idea of losing her made it almost impossible for him to breathe.

Rubbing his face with shaking hands, vaguely aware of Kirk’s concerned glances, he pulled himself back to the present, forcing his brain to drop all unhelpful thoughts and stop expecting the worst. Especially, since he really had no idea what the actual truth behind all this might turn out to be. He needed to get his act together for the upcoming conversation with Dakunia. For Hope’s sake.

Anything for Hope, he whispered inaudibly, as the monitor in the middle of the briefing room table flickered to life.

Chapter 65        

“Gentlemen,” Admiral Dakunia greeted them from the screen, looking tired and rather apprehensive himself, much to McCoy’s satisfaction, although the doctor in him wasn’t exactly proud of the feeling.

“Admiral,” the three officers returned the greeting, and Kirk added a polite, “Thank you for coming back to us so quickly!”

“You didn’t exactly leave me a choice there, did you?” the admiral frowned. “Not if I wanted to keep Hope safe, anyway.”

“Excuse me?” the captain asked, sounding as perplexed as McCoy felt at Dakunia’s statement.

“You heard me right, Jim,” the admiral sighed. “You have no idea what you’re getting into here. The sleeping tiger you’re about to wake. This is not about keeping secrets from you. Or her. This is about protecting Hope.”

“By keeping her in the dark about her own past? About who she really is?” McCoy blurted out, feeling even more unsettled now that Dakunia claimed to be concerned for Hope’s safety, indicating that she was in some kind of danger.

The admiral looked from the doctor to Kirk and Spock, and then back at McCoy.

“Exactly,” he said eventually. “Although I can see how that would be difficult to understand. But believe me, gentlemen, you don’t want to open that particular can of worms. It’s a Pandora’s box. You’ll have to trust me there. Like you, I only have Hope’s best interests at heart.”

“If you expect us to believe that,” the doctor scoffed, more than mistrustful of Dakunia’s motives, “you’ll have to do better than that. Just tell us! What’s so terrible about her past, what happened to her, what did she do, that you felt you needed to suppress her memories?”

“We never did that!” the admiral exclaimed, looking genuinely appalled, and McCoy briefly wondered, if this could really all be an act. “In fact, it’s completely beyond me how she could even have memories - suppressed or otherwise – from after 1991. She wasn’t there!”

“That’s not what we found,” Kirk took over again. “We have evidence that she lived on quite happily, well into old age, with only a two-day gap in 2016. Care to explain that?”

Dakunia heaved another sigh.

“You don’t understand,” he sounded exasperated now. “Yes, I kept that from you. But it’s not what you think, I did it for Hope. And we certainly never did anything to supress her memories. We simply assumed she’d only remember her life up to her physical age. That she might have memories after that didn’t even occur to us!”

“You are talking in riddles, Sir, as the human expression goes,” Spock spoke up, clearly sensing that Kirk’s and McCoy’s rather emotional approach wasn’t getting them anywhere. “May I ask you to be more precise?”

The admiral nodded reluctantly.

“All right,” he muttered under his breath, “never mind Pandora or that sleeping tiger. You’ve asked me for the truth about Hope, and I’ll give you as much as I can. This whole matter is strictly classified, after all.”

“Oh please, don’t hide behind the ‘classified’ excuse,” McCoy cut in, getting tired of watching Dakunia beating around the bush, stalling for time. “Surely, Hope would be given access to her own files, if she requested it? Why not just tell us the whole truth now and save us the trouble of opening an official investigation?”

“You might want to think twice before doing anything rash, Doctor,” the admiral replied, sounding calmer than he looked, his intense gaze somewhere between a warning and a plea. “Unless you wish Hope to live the life of a lab rat or worse. Because that’s what I’ve been trying to prevent all this time.”

McCoy’s jaw dropped.

The life of a lab rat? What’s the man even talking about?

But then Hope’s allegedly cured leukaemia, which inexplicably hadn’t left the slightest trace in her system, suddenly came to mind, as well as her mysterious immunity to that nasty virus, an explanation for which he still had to find in her blood, and the doctor felt his own blood run cold.

“I’ve come to know Hope as a very bright and lovely young woman,” Dakunia went on, “and I wouldn’t want to see her unhappy any more than you do, gentlemen. So, let’s make a deal. I tell you as much as I possibly can, and you drop all further investigation into this matter for the sake of your lieutenant.”

McCoy looked uncertainly at Kirk, his heart pounding hard against his ribs.

“You know I can’t agree to that,” the captain said determinedly. “Not until I can be sure that it really is in Hope’s best interest. That’s what we all truly care about, isn’t it?”

“Fair enough,” the admiral relented. “But before we start, I need to know more about those strange memories Hope has. Because it really shouldn’t be possible. At least not scientifically.”

“What she remembers foremost, are her children,” Spock answered Dakunia’s question, and McCoy wanted to kick him.

Why did the damn Vulcan always have to be so honest? Didn’t he see that instead of answering their questions, the admiral was trying to extract more information from them?

As if sensing the doctor’s thoughts, Spock cast McCoy a cautionary glance, prompting him to keep his mouth shut. Heaven knew, the first officer usually had good reasons for his actions, and the doctor dearly hoped that today wasn’t the exception.

Dakunia took his time to consider Spock’s words. And when he finally murmured, “I see, but we’d better keep this between us for now!” before finally launching into a more thorough explanation of Hope’s situation, McCoy had to admit that giving away this small piece of information had actually done the trick.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“Okay, so, this whole affair actually started almost a century ago,” Dakunia began hesitantly, pausing to take a sip from his coffee, “when Starfleet’s Section 31 set out on a time travel mission back to the year 2016.” 1)

“Wait a minute!” McCoy cut him short. “You’ve lost me already. Section 31? Since when is there a Section 31?”

“There isn’t,” Kirk said flatly, and the doctor didn’t miss Jim tensing up and shooting Dakunia an almost challenging look.

“You’re right, of course, Jim,” Dakunia agreed, his face grave now, “there isn’t. Yet, I’m their contact in Starfleet Intelligence.”

McCoy felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Starfleet Intelligence? All of a sudden, this whole business sounded huge. And ominous. When had finding out about Hope’s past turned into a major – terrifying – affair?

“Can anyone please enlighten me?” he barked, trying to keep his voice from cracking as he glanced questioningly from Dakunia to his friends. “Is there, or isn’t there a Section 31, and who are they, anyway?”

“Well,” Spock turned to the doctor, when the admiral didn’t offer an explanation, “there have been rumours about a secret branch of Starfleet Intelligence referred to as Section 31. But it is all hearsay, and to my knowledge, nothing has ever been confirmed.”

“Not just secret, Spock,” Kirk added, hard eyes on Dakunia, “but gone rogue. And certainly not a crowd you’d want to get involved with.”

McCoy’s alarm was growing at warp speed, and so was the knot in his stomach.

“Enough, dammit!” he hissed, glaring first at Jim, and then at Dakunia. “So, there is a Section 31. I get it. For God’s sake, just tell us who they are and what the hell Hope’s got to do with them!”

“I will, if you stop interrupting me,” the admiral said mildly, his eyes fixed on McCoy with something almost akin to compassion. “Let’s just say that Section 31 has been taking care of potential threats to the Federation since the middle of the last century.”

“Are you saying that Hope was a threat to the Federation?” the doctor was gaping at Dakunia in shocked disbelief.

So much for not interrupting. But this was truly outrageous!  

“Not to begin with,” the admiral went on, unperturbed, “but unfortunately, she interfered with a mission of keeping some time-travelling fanatic from meddling with the politics of the time. Something about presidential elections that year. I can’t give you details, but that fanatic was the actual threat, and Section 31 was to prevent him from carrying out his plan. Regrettably, even today, most people still don’t get that changing past events, however understandable, or even commendable, the wish to do so might be, affects all of history. That it’s not about right or wrong, but about leaving everything exactly the way it was in order to preserve our timeline.”

And how well we know that! McCoy thought sadly, exchanging glances with Kirk, who was quite obviously thinking the same thing, the doctor’s own pain clearly reflected in Jim’s eyes, as they both remembered that awful day they’d had to watch Edith Keeler die in the name of restoring history. 2)

“And where exactly does Hope come in?” Kirk asked, his grief turning into impatience. “The mission was successful after all, I take it?”

“You don’t have to concern yourself with that, Jim,” Dakunia replied curtly. “Suffice it to say that Hope was at the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to be a hero.”

Hearing that, McCoy was gripped by a terrible sense of foreboding, picturing Hope in a similar situation to the one he’d been in with Edith. He’d never forget how he’d felt when Jim had deliberately held him back from saving the woman, whose expression of surprised disbelief, as the car hit her, would forever be etched in his mind. It may have been a ‘necessary’ sacrifice, but the guilt would stay with him as long as he lived. Just like the question of who was to decide what was necessary, which timeline to preserve, in the first place.

“She didn’t have the faintest idea of what she’d stumbled into, of course,” Dakunia went on, oblivious of Kirk’s and McCoy’s painful memories. “All she saw was a young man of colour, as they still called them then, in trouble, being attacked near the back door of a diner in New York City. So she went to help him, nearly ruining the mission and getting herself killed in the process.”

McCoy froze in horror, registering Kirk’s equally shocked gasp right next to him.

“Her wounds were too severe to be successfully treated in the early 21st century,” the admiral continued, “therefore, not knowing who she was and how her death would affect history, the agents took her aboard their ship and back to 2191, the year they’d started from.”

A cold hand seemed to squeeze McCoy’s heart, as it hit him how close Hope had come to ending up as just another random murder victim, another dead body in the backstreets of then still barbaric New York City, and he felt hot anger rise inside him, when he realised that it hadn’t been concern for her life, but simply fear of her death somehow altering history, that had led to her rescue.

And all just because she’d wanted to help someone. So very Hope. Tears stung at the back of his eyes, even as a strong sense of pride and affection surged through him, when it struck him that trying to help others was probably still going to be the most likely cause of death for Hope.

“What happened then?” Spock asked, seeing that his friends had apparently lost the power of speech.

“Well, Hope was kept sedated until her health was fully restored, and the plan was to simply return her to her own time. Unfortunately, however, due to some technical glitch that’s difficult for us to reconstruct, they not only took her back exactly 200 years instead of the intended 175, but after realising they’d arrived in the wrong time, somehow ended up beaming an additional twenty-year-old version of Hope back up to their ship. To this day, we haven’t been able to determine with certainty, whether this was the consequence of some strange transporter malfunction, some time-anomaly, a rift in the space-time continuum at the exact time of the beam-up, or the fact that Hope had been brought to a time where a younger version of her already existed. The latter seemed the most likely explanation at the time, since the ship’s sensors hadn’t picked up any anomalies, and they couldn't find anything wrong with the transporter, either. So, on discovering that the young woman was, in fact, a duplicate, with her alter ego still on the surface, completely unaware and happily going about her life on Earth in 1991, they took both versions of Hope back to 2191 to deal with, and possibly even undo the chaos they’d created.”

McCoy’s head was spinning, when Dakunia finally paused to give the three officers time to let his words sink in, and from the frowns of concentration on his friends’ faces, the doctor could tell that even Spock had a hard time keeping track of events and processing this whole, preposterous tale.

If he’d been floored by Hope’s original story of spending three hundred years in stasis to be cured of leukaemia, this revised version certainly threw him for a loop. Yet, the doctor felt in his heart, that, this time, Dakunia had told the truth.

Jenny, a duplicate? Some kind of clone?

McCoy didn’t know what to make of this, couldn't even begin to grasp this new concept and all its possible ramifications, or what it could possibly mean for Hope to find out. Let alone how he was supposed to tell her. Just the thought of how this would affect her, frighten her, turn her whole world upside down and put everything she believed in into question, broke his heart. Hell, he had no idea how to even deal with this himself!

Pandora’s box, indeed!

Hope was the most kind-hearted and giving person he knew. She’d never harmed anyone in her life, only ever brought joy and happiness into other people’s lives, always trying to help in her sweet, caring way. So, why was nothing ever easy for her? Why did she have to go through one traumatic experience after the other? Why was her life a never-ending stream of unpleasant surprises?

Despite being aware that she didn’t even know about any of this yet, all McCoy wanted to do at that moment was to go find her. To be with her, hold her, comfort her, protect her. Make sure that this was the last time she’d ever have to go through something like this.

But Dakunia wasn’t done yet. By the looks of him, he still had a lot more to say. How much worse could it get? The doctor felt like running off and taking Hope to the nearest inhabitable planet to hide there from all further news. Just the two of them, together forever, living a simple and quiet life. But things weren’t that simple, were they?

“In the end,” the admiral broke into McCoy’s thoughts, “they managed to take Hope, the original version, back to 2016, leaving a two-day-safety margin, so as not to repeat a possible duplication effect, and making sure that she could go on living her life the way she was meant to.”

“And what about the ‘duplicate’?” McCoy asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, desperate to know, yet not sure he was ready to hear the details of what they’d done to his darling Hope.

1) I borrowed Section 31 from DS9. 2) Reference to the TOS episode “The City on the Edge of Forever”.

x-x-x-x-x-

Continue to: Chapters 66-70            Chapter 71       

Go back to: Chapters 1-5 Chapters 6-10 Chapters 11-15   Chapters 16-20   Chapters 21-25 Chapters 26-30   Chapters 31-35   Chapters 36-40     Chapters 41-45           Chapters 46-50     Chapters 51-55                   Chapters 56-60                                                    

Or read it on AO3: Another Life

************ Disclaimer: Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else is currently holding the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.

#leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy #bones mccoy #deforest kelley #karl urban #star trek #tos #aos #star trek fanfiction #mccoy romance #mccoy fluff #bones x hope #mccoy x hope #bones/hope #mccoy/hope #dr. jennifer hope #another life by spacedancer #spacedancer1701 #spock #leonard nimoy #james t. kirk #william shatner #leonard mccoy x ofc #leonard mccoy x original female character #leonard x jenny #mccoy fanfic #leonard mccoy fanfiction #bones fanfiction #true love #mccoy angst

[redrose689]

Chapter 1 - Prologue

Year 2248

As Spock stared at the flashing, gaudy invitation on the screen of his PADD, he – not for the first time, mind you – thought to himself what his parents would do.

When faced with a social endeavor, Spock was never one to particularly thrive. Not like his father – Sarek, Spock quickly corrected himself – did. As a diplomat, Sarek was somehow renowned for his way of making reason with even the most illogical species. The reason for this was frankly lost to Spock, who believed he hadn’t seen such skills displayed by his father in quite a few years.

Perhaps what was considered skill was really just an immeasurable amount of patience.

And then, there was his mother.

His mother was a bit trickier to decipher. As mercurial as Earth’s Pacific Ocean, one moment she was smiling and charming her way around the room (assuming that the occupants were a mix of other species rather than Vulcans, of course), and the next she was quietly bemoaning at how ‘stuffy and horrid’ the whole affair was. From across the immaculately placed table, she would send her young son a pained expression, and this little secret act would bring a warmth to his chest when he was a boy. It had become clear to Spock as he was growing up that although she did not particularly enjoy the tedious affairs that came with hers and Sarek's own respective careers, she was nonetheless capable of acting like it.

But, Spock reasoned, this Starfleet social gathering was not the same as a diplomatic affair. This is something his mother would press on him to go to – to go make friends. This was something his mother would thrive in, in a way that neither Sarek nor Spock could ever.

Frustration flared in his chest. In an uncharacteristic move, Spock tossed his PADD carelessly onto the bed, shrugged on an Earth styled coat, and walked out into the brisk San Francisco air.

Perhaps, he was approaching this predicament in the wrong manner. His siblings – wherever they may be now – would be a more relevant comparison, considering them being closer in age. But Spock quickly decided that Sybok would perhaps thrive with his natural charisma and eloquence, the latter of which was often attributed to their father. And Michael? Well, his elder sister was fearless and undaunted. Focused. On quiet nights, Spock often thought to himself that Michael was more of a true Vulcan than Spock would ever be.

Spock attempted to lift up his coat’s collar in vain, as it did little to alleviate the chilly winds that graced Starfleet Academy. Laughter echoed across from the other side of the courtyard, where a group of students sat together eating lunch.

He – not for the first time – wondered if coming here was a mistake.

As he glanced towards the students, however, a figure caught his eye.

Her short stature had slowed to a stop, as if caught in action. It took him less than a split second to recognize his mother. The only reason it took him any longer was due to her human clothing and loose, flowing hair. It was indeed his mother, Spock reconfirmed, who was somehow on Earth.

From across, Amanda Grayson raised her hand in a sheepish wave.

Spock eyed his mother's drink warily. He's only been on Earth among humans for two weeks, but he has already been made quite aware of the effects of intoxication.

"Oh, don't judge me," admonished Amanda, as she wrapped up her brown hair in a loose, messy bun. "It's been a long week."

Spock wisely decided not to press on it. "I was not aware you had business on Earth."

Amanda raised an eyebrow. "Spock, when do I ever need a reason to see my son?"

"I would assume by your tone that it is never, but it is strange considering I had seen you only thirteen days ago. Furthermore, if I recall correctly, you have not visited Earth in the past eight years."

"Was it really that long ago?" mused Amanda, a small frown gracing her face. Remembering what forced her to return to Earth eight years ago, Spock found himself reluctant to break the silence.

Amanda suddenly shook her head, as if waking up. "Love, how have you been?"

It occurred to Spock that this was the perfect (and he used that term subjectively, of course) time to bring up his predicament. Although Spock was certain of his mother's response, hearing it from her directly would be comforting. But Spock hesitated. He was already doubting his decision in coming here, and he sought no reason to bring that doubt onto his mother. His mother, he knew, would worry unnecessarily.

So instead, he answered, "I am well." He tilted his head. "May I inquire your reason for being here, if not for business?"

Faintly exasperated, Amanda reached into her bag.

Spock blinked when a small, soft item was tossed into his lap. In a forthright manner, Amanda nodded at it. "I meant to bring this to you."

The item was made of a soft, knitted wool. "It is a hat."

"A beanie," corrected Amanda. "It's your father's - he uses them whenever he has to go to an ice planet like Andoria for business. It'll suit you well here."

Amanda pursed her lips as Spock inspected it. "You don't like it?"

There was a sharpness in her tone that Spock recognized far too well. Spock and his siblings were definitely on the receiving end of it before, but it was mainly Sarek who was more often than not graced with it.

"It is appreciated," Spock answered carefully. "You travelled sixteen light years to bring me a beanie?"

Amanda gave Spock a soft smile, but it was not a familiar one. And he had a startling realization that it was sad.

“Spock,” she said, with the smile intact. “I’ve been on Earth for the past two weeks, and I’m staying. Indefinitely.”

Spock blinked. “What do you mean to do in this time?”

“I was offered by the Academy to be a visiting professor for the current academic year. We’ll see what happens after.” She raised her hands up. “Don’t worry – I won’t embarrass you here, I promise.”

We’ll see what happens after.

In Spock’s surprise, he forgot to refer to his father by his name. “You left father.”

His mother held her hand out, and Spock accepted it.

Spock always felt from his mother a flurry of emotions. She was a sandstorm, while Sarek was a levelled lake.

Spock felt from her a surprising amount of determination. Of purpose. Some fear, though it was invigorating rather than debilitating, and some sadness and pain. But there was an overwhelming amount of assuredness, as Amanda promised, “Spock, it was not because of what happened – ”

Spock spoke in a fast manner. “That is unlikely considering the argument that had entailed. While we may have had a serious disagreement, it was not my intention for you and Sarek – ”

“‘Sarek’,” suddenly exclaimed Amanda. She threw her hands up. “My god. You both can be so dramatic sometimes. Spock, he is your father. And refusing to call him such isn’t going to change anything.”

“It was his decision to denounce me as his son and cast me out of the S’chn T’gai clan.”

Amanda’s face tightened, and her smile disappeared. Part of Spock regretted that, but the other part felt relieved at stirring her out of the facade.

“I know,” she said flatly. “Believe me, I know. But that isn’t wholly it. So please, do not blame yourself for this.”

“Your words for comfort are appreciated, but not necessary. It is evident that me rejecting the Vulcan Science Academy was a source of great distress among the family, and it clearly led to the dissolution of marriage with Sarek.”

“Dramatic,” Amanda repeated. “And no, love. I am sincere when I say that this was a long time coming. Your father knew it, and I knew it as well.”

Spock found himself confused.  His mother was gazing levelly at him. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed and her mouth in a small frown, but there was no obscene display of pain or grief. “I do not understand. I was under the impression that you and Sarek shared a… mutually satisfying and content partnership. I was not aware there were serious strains.”

Because past all the arguing and disagreements and shouting (on his mother’s behalf), Spock always saw in Sarek a softening when it came to his wife. And as for Mother, well, Spock steadfastly believed she was capable of loving anything.

His mother chuckled, and Spock deemed it genuine. “Well, your father is not always an easy man to love, and it’s not easy for a Vulcan to give it.”

“When I had asked him as a child, he said that he married you because it was logical.”

Spock remembered it clearly. He was ten years old, then. Covered in bruises and filled with confusion. That was the first time he had hit somebody.

Amanda seemed to contemplate this. Surprisingly unfazed, Amanda shrugged. “Love, you’ll learn quickly enough that logic is subjective.”

Privately, Spock disagreed.

Amanda continued, “And in some way, he believes that there are other things even stronger and more valued than love. In that, I think he’s somewhat right.”

Spock fell silent for a moment. “You do not love him anymore.” Spock found that to be a rather sad thought.

But Amanda frowned and shook her head. “I still love him. I do – it’s just love is not always enough.”

“I do not understand.”

“Well,” she mused. A strong breeze fluttered the strands around her head. “Love is only one facet in marriage – and in any relationship. Another one is history, which is tied to trust. And another is communication.” She sighed. “Your father sorely lacks in the latter. It’s a marvel, considering we are bonded.”

“You are still bonded with him?”

“Of course.” Amanda grimaced. “I know it’s confusing – I hardly understand it myself. But right now, your father and I are simply… separated.”

He thought about how Amanda was to remain here ‘indefinitely’. “Do you intend to remain so?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly after a pause. “We have reached a point where both of us have to get ourselves sorted out first before deciding anything. Your father, especially.”

Spock exhaled, in what was almost a sigh. “I am sincere when I say I did not intend for this to occur.”

Amanda patted his arm. “Spock, listen to me. This wasn’t a sudden decision that occurred solely because of Starfleet. It was a… culmination, of sorts.”

“Of the arguments?” He remembered hearing Amanda’s raised voice during certain nights. It always coincided whenever one of the children tested Sarek’s patience – which happened quite a bit.

His mother’s face softened, and it was almost warm. “No, love. It was not just the bad. All the good, the great, and the tragedies – they’re all tied together. And how your father and I ended up now is just… just how it came to be.”

Silence befell the both of them, and the sound of waves softly crashing filled the air once more.

As they walked back down the winding streets of San Francisco, Amanda asked, “You avoided the question earlier – how is everything? Classes? The people?”

Spock glanced down at his mother. It was strange, how time made his parents shrink. He could remember vividly a time when he thought his mother tall and Sarek towering, like beacons.

“I admittedly am at an impasse.” He explained to her the upcoming Starfleet social. “Essentially, I am uncertain if I should attend this gathering.”

There was a lot he hadn’t said – how he felt himself lacking in friends, in company, and in confidence – yet somehow, Spock sensed she understood. She gave him the same soft expression she always did – faintly worried yet also amused, as if they both already knew the answer.

He knew she would tell him to go and branch out and –

“So don’t go.”

They reached his dormitory building, and they both stopped as Spock turned to stare at his mother.

She smiled. “Don’t go if you are truly uncomfortable. It takes time to acclimate to a new planet and new people – and that’s perfectly alright. It took me ages to adjust to Vulcan society, and even now, I’m still always learning.” She sighed and brushed off a stray leaf from his shoulder.

“But,” she emphasized, patting his arm. “- if it fear that is stopping you, go even if you're afraid – because you're afraid. The first step is always the hardest, but you have a good, sincere heart that people will see. And think about it this way: everyone here on campus is having a fresh start – just like you. Everyone is afraid, nervous, and stressed, and that’s – ”

“Perfectly alright,” finished Spock. For once, he didn’t question the meaning of this paradoxical phrase he has heard since childhood.

His mother beamed up at him. “Exactly.”

Looking at his mother now, Spock supposed he had never seen her so relaxed in public. The only place on Vulcan she could relax was home at the D’H’riset. But on the streets of Vulcan, there was a certain image she carried – the ambassador’s human wife.

To the Vulcans, she was invisible, in that way. She wasn’t Amanda Grayson.

On Earth, she was invisible, too. No, corrected Spock – it wasn’t an invisibility. It was a freedom.

It was something Spock felt here, as well. Realizing this, Spock felt a sense of peace over his decision, for once.

Spock accepted her hug, as she continued, “And I know it’s never cool to have your mother around you during school, but I’m always here should you ever need anything – even if just company.”

“Perhaps weekly lunches will suffice.”

Spock knew he said the right thing when she hugged him tighter. “That sounds lovely.”

“Will you be well on your own?” he asked, as he stepped away.

“Yes, yes,” she assured him. “This isn’t the first time I left your father, you know.”

Spock apparently did not manage to completely hide his disbelief, as Amanda laughed, “There’s quite a bit we didn’t tell you kids, did we?”

“Evidently."

There was a familiar twinkle in her brown eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it.”

An hour later, Amanda tentatively stepped into the cool, brisk waters of the Pacific. The cold bit at her toes, but her eyes closed regardless, and she swayed against the force of the tides and wind.

She deeply inhaled the salty air and relished in the warmth of the sun’s light.

It really had been too long.

Eventually, she sat down – alone – on the white sand. She could hear the waves crashing and the sharp cries of birds as they swooped overhead, as well as the laughter from a young family sitting nearby. It was so loud here on Earth, yet it never felt more silent.

The bond was… silent.

Amanda exhaled slowly, burrowing her hands deep into the sand – and with it, her anger and sadness.

As the fine grains of sand slipped through her fingers, she remembered a time long ago, when she and Sarek were at a beach. Except it wasn’t here in California, but on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. A small smile slowly graced her mouth.

Amanda softly snorted to herself.

There many things she couldn’t tell her son, but those, well, Amanda can cherish them all herself.

#sarek/amanda #spock #sarek #amanda grayson #star trek #s'chn t'gai family #im terrible at remembering to post

[starfleetbotanist]

Here is the second in my series of Star Trek one shots! I hope y'all enjoy!

🌹

Spock- One Word Is Too Often Profaned

Len had just settled on the small sofa in his quarters, PADD in hand, to catch up on the medical journals he'd been neglecting before bed. He hadn't gotten very far into the first article before the chime at the door sounded.

"Come in," he called.

As CMO, and a trained psychologist, he did his best to keep an open door policy to any crew members who might need a listening ear. He sat up more fully when Spock entered.

"Mr. Spock," he greeted, setting his PADD on the coffee table. "What can I do for you?"

"I apologize for the lateness of the hour, Doctor." He came a little further into the room, and Len could see the tension in his ramrod posture, just a small tell, but enough to alarm him.

"I was awake, anyway, it's no big deal. Are you alright? Can I get you anything? Some tea?"

If Spock was troubled, maybe a warm drink would help him get to talking. The Vulcan kept his concerns as close to his chest as Jim, and, Len admitted, himself.

"I would appreciate some tea, thank you, Doctor."

While Len busied himself at the small kitchenette (replicators never got it right, he swore), he waved Spock to the armchair. He sat, and the tension he was carrying became even more obvious.

"Here ya go," Len told him as he handed him a cup of tea, settling back on the sofa with his own. "Now, why don't you tell me what's got your hackles up?"

Taking a slow sip of his tea, Spock collected his thoughts.

"I have... Had an argument with Lt. Uhura."

"Oh? A lover's spat, or something more serious?"

"I fear it may be more serious. I... I care for her, Doctor. But I am concerned that my expression of it may not be enough for her. The ways that Vulcans show their affection varies from that of humans. I am trying, but there are things I still do not fully understand."

"Well, Spock, I'll tell you one thing. The fact that you're seeking help in this is a good sign. Ny's a smart woman. I'm sure she knows you're trying."

"I hope that you are right, Doctor. I... I wish to communicate with her the depths of my feelings. But as a Vulcan, I cannot do so in ways that humans can. I fear I am at a loss."

"Do you remember much about your parents' relationship, Spock?"

"My parents?"

"Mhm. Lady Amanda was human, right? And Ambassador Sarek loved her. What do you remember about how he showed it?"

Spock was silent for a moment, thinking.

"Mother was very tender towards him, very patient. In public, Father always refered to her as 'she who is my wife,' but called her 'Beloved' in private. He was gentle with her, when he could be, and it did not escape me that they shared more casual touches than other couples I saw."

Len smiled, the image of an embarrassed baby Spock blushing at his parents' obvious affection rather endearing.

"Humans, and other races, I've noticed, tend to have love languages, Spock. Ways that love is shown to them that they're most receptive to. Have you noticed anything like that with Ny?"

"She seems especially pleased when I call her Vulcan endearments, and when I praise her. At times, the depth of emotion I feel for her is... Almost worshipful."

"So words of affirmation," Len nodded. He paused, thinking. "You say you're having trouble communicating your feelings for her. A cultural barrier, in a way."

"Precisely."

"Well, Spock, it sounds like she needs some tenderness from you, the way your mother needed it from your dad. And special words, just for her. I have an idea, but you're gonna have to trust me."

"I would not be here, Doctor, if I did not trust you."

Len grinned, placing his now empty teacup down beside the PADD on the coffee table before standing. He spent a few moments in his bedroom before returning, carrying with him a familiar, well-read book.

"This," he said upon sitting, tapping the ring on his pinky finger against the hard cover, "was my Granny's answer to a lot of things, Spock. If she couldn't get her own words to say what she was feeling, she was always able to find a poem to do it for her."

Spock raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Len began to flip through the pages.

"Here we are," he said at last, looking victorious, and handed the book over to Spock.

"Shelley, Doctor?" He asked, scanning the poem more eagerly than he would admit.

"Trust me, Spock. I think it'll do the trick."

He returned the book to Len, setting his own teacup down and standing.

"Thank you, Doctor. I will go and speak with her now."

"Good luck, Spock."

He nodded, leaving Len's quarters and making his way to Nyota's. When she let him in, he found her sitting on her own sofa, her eyes red from crying.

"Nyota," he said, moving to sit beside her. "I have come to apologize to you. I did not understand how you needed me. Neither did I understand how to word my feelings for you. The way I was raised, who I am... I want to be enough for you. If you will listen, for just a moment, I... I may have found the words, at last. Though they are not my own, they express what I hope to say."

She wiped at her tears and turned to face him. Her expression was gentle, patient, and hopeful. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before speaking.

"I'm listening, Spock."

He took a breath, recalling the poem to mind.

"One word is too often profaned

For me to dare profane it;

One feeling too falsely disdain'd

For thee to disdain it;

One hope is too like despair

For prudence to smother;

And pity from thee more dear

Than that from another.

I can give not what men call love;

But wilt thou accept not

The worship the heart lifts above

And the heavens reject not,

The desire of the moth for the star,

Of the night for the morrow,

The devotion to something afar

From the sphere of our sorrow?"

He dared not meet her gaze right away, but carefully offered two fingers towards her, a Vulcan kiss.

Nyota regarded him, love swelling in her heart, and her own fingers met his. When he finally looked at her, his eyes- his mother's eyes, his human eyes- told her all that she had hoped, had needed, to know.

#star trek aos #spock #nyota uhura #spock x nyota #my writing #leonard mccoy #star trek

[triptuckers]

Secret’s out - Leonard “Bones” McCoy

Request: No Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Kirk!reader Summary: Throughout the time you spent on Enterprise, you had fallen in love with a certain doctor. After you confessed your feelings to him, he told you those feelings were mutual. You’ve been dating ever since. However, you made an agreement that no one could know. Especially not your brother, who happened to be the captain of the ship.  Warnings: None Word count: 1K A/N: I just thought this idea was cute. My requests are open, so feel free to send some in. Enjoy reading!! :)

It took Enterprise three days to get the transporter back online. Three days. You spent three days all alone on a deserted planet. You had been down there with Spock, taking samples of all the newly discovered plants and other elements of the planet. Given that there was some sort of radiation interfering with the transporter, they couldn’t beam you up together. Scotty was supposed to beam you up right after beaming Spock up. But after Spock had disappeared, nothing happened. 

You waited, and you waited, and tried to communicate with Enterprise but they didn’t respond. Even though you knew it must had something to do with the radiation, you still kept trying to contact them. But hours later, it was getting dark and cold and so you had to go and find shelter for the night. 

That was three days ago. You had returned to the spot where they had beamed Spock back aboard the ship. You’re currently looking at the sky. If you squint your eyes, you could see Enterprise. You try to contact them for what feels like the millionth time, but there still isn’t any response. You sigh and sit down on the ground. Your eyes are itchy due to the lack of sleep. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fall asleep. Probably because you waited for Enterprise to contact you.

You tilt your head back to look up again and squint your eyes. Leonard was probably worried sick. A small smile appears on your lips as you imagine him following Jim around the ship. Leonard would probably stop talking to Jim once you are back on board. You sigh again. Jim would probably be worried sick as well. You couldn’t imagine your boyfriend or your brother getting enough rest or a decent meal as long as you’re still on the planet. 

You let yourself fall backwards and close your eyes. It didn’t seem like they would contact you any time soon, so why not try to get at least 15 minutes of sleep? The ground feels rather hard, even though it’s mostly sand. You take a deep breath and exhale, clutching your communicator in your hand. If they would contact you, you would know and you would wake up.

The familiar beeping sounds faint, and a little distant. You groan and open your eyes. It’s dark, and the temperature must have dropped at least twenty degrees. You blink a few times in order to wake yourself. Judging from the darkness you’re in, you must have gotten at least two hours of sleep.

You suddenly remember why you woke up. You can hear Jim’s voice through the communicator you’re holding. ‘Y/N? Y/N? You out there? Y/N, respond! Come in, please.’ he says.  You can’t help but to sigh out of relief.  ‘Yeah, I hear you, Jim.’ you say. ‘I’m here.’ ‘Oh, thank god.’ says Jim.  ‘You guys figure out how to fix the transporter?’ you say and you hear Jim chuckle. ‘Yeah, Scotty fixed it. Stand by, we’ll beam you up.’ says Jim. 

You quickly get up and try to get some of the sand off your uniform. You inhale and close your eyes. When you open them, you’re on Enterprise, surrounded by familiar faces. The first one you see is Jim, followed by Scotty, Spock and of course, Leonard. 

Without hesitation, Leonard walks up to you and pulls you in his arms. You breathe in his scent and smile. ‘Hello Lee.’ you say softly. ‘Scared the hell out of me, darlin’. Don’t do that ever again.’ says Leonard. ‘I’m okay. No need to worry, I’m right here.’ you say. Leonard is still holding you when someone loudly clears their throat. 

You let go of Leonard and see Jim is looking at you, eyebrows raised. Scotty is looking from you and Leonard back to Jim. And even Spock has a slightly surprised look on his face. Jim opens his mouth to say something, frowns, and closes his mouth again. He keeps frowning as he’s thinking.

‘Jim?’ you say. ‘Something you want to say?’ Jim slowly walks up to you and Leonard, clearly still trying to find the right words. He points to you and Leonard. ‘You and- uh- what’s happening? Why? And how?’ stutters Jim. ‘It appears that Lieutenant Kirk and Doctor McCoy are in a romantic relationship.’ says Spock. You roll your eyes and look at the Vulcan. ‘Thanks, Spock.’ you say sarcastically. Leonard mutters something underneath his breath and you’re thankful Spock can’t hear him. ‘You’re welcome.’ says Spock, thinking he helped you.

‘But, since when? You’re my sister, Y/N. And Bones, you’re my- I don’t get it. How? When? I don’t get it.’ says Jim, still confused. You step closer to your brother. ‘Jim, look at me.’ you say. He does so and you look into his eyes. ‘Listen, I get that you have a lot of questions. I get that we need to have a conversation about this. But I’m cold, and I’m covered in sweat and sand. I need a shower and I need to catch up on some sleep. We’ll talk about it some other day, yeah? I’m going to bed.’ you say.

‘The hell you are.’ says Leonard behind you. You turn around to look at him. ‘I’m going to check you for any injuries first.’ he says. You sigh. ‘Lee, please, I’m tired.’ you say. ‘You can sleep after I confirm you’re okay.’ says Leonard. He takes your hand in his and walks toward the door. As you walk through it, you catch Scotty’s eyes, who is still gazing at you and Leonard, trying to process what he just witnessed. You can almost feel Jim’s eyes burning in your back. Nevertheless, you follow Leonard through the halls. You’ll have the brother-sister talk some other day.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Jo

#carliehansonwya #star trek #Star Trek aos #Star Trek tos #Star Trek imagine #Star Trek fics #Star Trek fanfiction #leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy imagine #leonard mccoy one shot #bones x reader #bones imagine #bones one shot #Leonard McCoy fluff #bones fluff

[labyrinthof-fan-fiction]

Two Ships Passing in the Night {3}

Part 3

Series Masterlist

Spock x fem!Reader then Bones x fem!Reader

Second Person POV reader named. I’m trying to leave the name out as much as possible so it’s more immersive.

AOS

Summary: Saying goodbye proves harder than you had thought it would.

A/N: I’m getting far too invested in this story that served as my before sleep dreamscape for three months.

Warnings: Mild Language, pining, unrequited love, goodbyes, mentions of pregnancy, goodbyes, some angst, mild nudity. 

Word Count:  2,092

Leonard helped you to pack the belongings you had in the hospital. Which consisted of one shredded Starfleet Uniform. A new one sat on the bed, your arm still in a sling you glanced at him, “Len, can you help me?”

You missed the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed nervously, “Yeah, no problem.” You stepped out of the hospital gown, in only standard issue boxers and a sports bra, that a nurse had helped you into. He took his eyes away from you, you pulled the uniform pants on, trying in vain to button them with one hand. His fingers ghosted over yours as he fastened the button and reached for the command gold shirt on the bed. He threw the shirt over his shoulder and started to remove your sling. His fingers moving deftly at the fasteners. Each time his fingers touched your flesh you felt a dull heat. You forced yourself to ignore it as he slowly lowered your arm and pulled the shirt over your head. You easily pushed your right arm through as he gently maneuvered your left arm into the sleeve. A hiss escaped your lips as a sharp pain erupted in your shoulder. “Sorry.” He said, barely a whisper as he began to fasten the sling on your arm over your uniform.

Once he was finished his eyes met yours, something unreadable in his eyes, before he glanced away. “So, you ship out tomorrow?” You asked.

He nodded. “We just got the crew discharged and they want to throw us into space” He grumbled.

You chuckled at that. “I ship out three days later.” You stated, “What do you say, one last hurrah dinner?” You asked.

He paused for a moment, conflict churning in his stomach. He knew that this would hurt, the last dinner with you. “Sure, darlin’.”

You didn’t say anything about the name, but nodded. He took your shredded uniform in his hand and nodded. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m walking you to your apartment, then we’re going for dinner.” He answered, an eyebrow raised in your direction. “You really think I’m going to let you walk by yourself? A pregnant woman who is still in a sling, who happens to be my best friend? Do you know nothing of my Southern hospitality?”

It was turn to raise your eyebrow at him. “Best friend? Better not let Jim hear that. It will be a complete challenge to his existence.”

Leonard started grumbling under his breath, you couldn’t make out much more than Jim’s name. He finished his tirade and pushed the door open, gesturing for you to leave the room. He took one last glance around the room before following you out. He reached for your good elbow to guide you out of the way of a doctor moving forward at a quick pace. Your hip bumped against his, you glanced up as a few nurses stared in your direction. You could almost feel daggers being sent in your direction as his hand rested on your opposite hip, steadying your balance. As you exited the hospital you raised your face towards the sun, taking in a deep breath. You heard Leonard chuckle as he removed his hand from your hip.

“Just because you can’t enjoy the simple things, Dr. McCoy, doesn’t mean that I can’t.” You snarked in his direction.

He raised an eyebrow, not commenting. Which surprised you. His mind was reeling, the only simple things I need in life are from you. But he would not say that aloud as he watched you take another deep breath. Just when did he become a sap?

He continued walking with you in silence. Watching the way the sun hit your hair, the ways your eyes would shine when you looked at him. Five years were a long time, you were going to be somewhere across the universe. He was pulled out of his mind when you reached your apartment building. You easily scanned in, Leonard following you to the elevator. You both entered your apartment, Leonard making his way to your garbage to dispose of the old uniform. You made your way into your room stopping in the doorway. You knew that getting changed was going to be an issue. You sighed. You hated going to dinner in uniform. Especially in command gold, but you weren’t about to make Leonard help you agin. You heard a voice from behind you.

“I can help. I’ve seen my fair share of naked bodies this week.” You could hear the joking tone in his voice. “You know you hate going out in gold.”

You sighed, he had won. “Fine.” You turned towards him, his hands began unbuckling the sling. He tossed it aside and helped you to pull off the shirt and pants, leaving you in your underwear. “Grab a flannel from the closet, I’ll get pants.” He walked over to your closet, you pulled a pair of leggings out of your dresser. You sat on your bed and pulled them on slowly, one leg at a time. It wasn’t the most graceful thing you had done, but it worked well enough. Leonard turned with a blue flannel in his hands and helped to put your arms through it, then began to fasten the buttons.

Your gaze fell on the man kneeling in front of you, helping you become dressed. He finished and his eyes made their way up to yours. You both sat in silence for a moment, “So, blue?” You asked.

“Well, you bitch so much about gold, thought you might like a walk in my shoes.” He answered, a smile on his face. Your stomach let out a low rumble after his statement. “And it sounds like you two are hungry. Let’s go. We’ll get a half decent meal at that diner, and so help me if you try to get your burger medium well…” He paused when he realized that you were still on the bed. “Darlin’?”

Your eyes met his. “Leonard, I’m scared.” You whispered. He made his way back to you, sitting next to you. His hand reached for your good hand, finders threading through yours.  “I never thought I’d leave the Enterprise. I didn’t think I’d be a mom. So much has changed.”

His thumb rubbed against the back of your hand. “Some things will change. And that’s life. Look at me. I thought I would be a country doctor with my wife, living on Earth. Here I am now, CMO on a spaceship, about to ship off on a 5 year mission into the unknown. Without that, I never would have met Jim. I never would have met you. So much changed, but there was so much good.” You lean your head on his shoulder, your stomach growling again.  “I may not be an expert in prenatal care, but I think we need to feed you two, now.” He said, standing, giving a tug to your joined hands, causing you to reluctantly stand. Your grip on his hand tightened as you followed him out of the apartment building to the diner down the street. Both of you not noticing the command gold clad captain stopping in the road and staring in your direction, with a twinkle in his eye.

Leonard directed you to a booth and a waitress bounced up to your table. “What will it be?”

“Two burgers, everything, well done. Fries on the side. Vanilla milkshake for me, she’ll take a ginger ale.” Leonard listed off. The waitresses eyes jumped between the two of you.

“That’ll be right out.” She winked as she sauntered away to get your drinks.

Your eyes traced over Leonard, leaning back against the booth. His left arm thrown across the back, his right fingers tapping on the tabletop. The waitress set your drinks in front of you before turning back to the counter. “What’s on your mind, Bones?” You asked, taking a sip of the drink.

“Five years is a long time.” He murmured. “A really long damn time.”

You nodded, eyes meeting his. “It is.”

“Five years, in space, with Jim as captain. It’s going to be a miracle if we make it home in one piece.” He grumbled.

“You made it back here in one piece.” You answered, taking another sip.

His eyes fell back on you, you almost didn’t. He sighed. “Five years with Jim as your only friend onboard a spaceship.” He countered.

“Hmmm, might be time for you to share your sparkling personality with the crew. Make some new friends.” You answered.

He snorted, “I have far surpassed my friend quota for the next twenty years.”

Before you could respond the waitress placed your burgers in front of both of you. “Enjoy.” She said, then making her way back to the counter.

Leonard started to eat, cutting off the conversation, you started in on your plate. The two of you sitting in silence, enjoying the last meal you had together. You started aimlessly moving the last of your fries around your plate as Leonard pushed his plate away. His eyes watching you, “So are you going to eat that, or do I have to watch you draw shapes in your catsup?”

Your eyes squinted at him, you gave one more flick of your wrist to the fry before popping it into your mouth. “Snarky old bastard.” You grumbled.

“But I’m your snarky old bastard.” He responded, a smirk spreading across his face, setting his blue eyes alight.

A small smile graced your lips. “Thank the gods I only have to deal with you a few more hours.”

“Yes, lucky you.” He said, taking the last drink of his shake. He placed some money on the table, you started to object, but he cut you off. “My treat, call it our celebration dinner.”

“I was going to say send off dinner.” You said.

“Beat you to it.” He teased, standing from his seat. He waited for you to rise from the booth then made his way to the door and opened it to allow you out.

“Such a gentleman.” You said, giving him a nudge in the ribs with your good elbow.

“Southern hospitality, darlin’. It’s like you don’t know me.” He said, pretending to be hurt, then reaching out to grab your hand in his.

Warmth radiated from his hand into yours, warming your whole body. You glanced at the man next to you. His eyes on the path before you as he was rattling off manners and chivalry, like he was a knight of old or something. His shoulders were relaxed for the first time in days. You could see the lack of sleep under his eyes, but he was calm, comfortable even. Something stirred in your heart, but you weren’t sure what it was as you saw your apartment building looming in the distance.

You both stopped abruptly on the sidewalk, staring at the building. The place you called home losing the charm you were used to. You quickly turned to Leonard, shocking him for a moment. “Promise me, that if you can, you’ll call. If we’re in range. We’ll stay in touch.”

His eyes widened a bit. “I promise, as long as you promise not to get mad when I look over your records from Ambrose. To see how you and your little one are doing.” His hand that you weren’t holding settling on your abdomen.

You looked into his blue eyes. “I promise. But you don’t get to be rude and Sergeant Doctor when something isn’t to your liking. Ambrose isn’t under your orders.”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Fine, but you won’t do anything reckless, you’re not Jim and you’re not on Jim’s ship.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m on a diplomatic ship, hardly anything dangerous or reckless happens on those.”

He sighed and rested his forehead against yours. “I promise that no matter what, I’ll be there for you.”

“And I you.” You answered. His hand moved from your abdomen to your cheek.

“Goodbye, Captain.” He whispered.

“Goodbye, Doctor.” You answered, then he pulled away, releasing your hand. He gave a sad smile and turned to walk back the way you had came. Watching him leave you felt that flutter again, but you ignored it. Your heart was heavy as you watched your best friend make his way into the night. You didn’t know when next you would see him, but you knew for sure, you would miss him every day.

Part 4 

Taglist:

@elizabeththefandomgirl

#star trek imagine #star trek aos #star trek fic #leonard bones mccoy #leonard/reader #leonard x reader #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard bones mccoy x reader #leonard bones mccoy/reader #leonard bones mccoy imagine #bones/reader #bones x reader #mild language #pregnancy #mild nudity #bones imagine #no spock this time #but he will return #jim is going to stir the pot #because he can #bones mccoy #bones

[thedreamsmith]

How (Not) to Seduce a Blueshirt (Chapter 3)

@atc74​ @alleiradayne​ @arrowsandmixtapes​ @captain-s-rogers​ for #OC appreciation day 2020

Warnings: Swearing, mild sexual sitation

Pairing: Jim Kirk x OFC

Chapter summary:  Jim grows a pair.

The halls were quiet the next morning, Alpha shift had barely begun as Jim strode down the halls of the Enterprise. The usual bounce in his step was damped by the task ahead of him. Generally, all it took for the infamous Captain Kirk to secure a date was a crooked smile and a smouldering look, but here he felt that neither of those would be of any help to him.

The doors to the menagerie slid open without a sound but the bespectacled veterinary officer glanced up at him as he stepped into the main exam room. Jim searched his memory for the name of Reyne’s co-worker. Doctor...Anderson?

Yes, Anderson sounded right. It wasn’t his fault that usually whenever he was about, Doctor Lyall was also there with that arresting gaze and hourglass figure.

‘Can I help you, Captain?’ Doctor Anderson straightened, grimacing as he stretched out a kink in his back. There was a vial of vivid blue liquid on the table in front of him, and the sight of it made him shudder involuntarily. He had a sneaking suspicion that it had belonged to the Lethian rat. Jim rubbed the faint scar on his hand subconsciously.

‘I was looking for Doctor Lyall. I was told that she was on Alpha shift today.’

He felt decidedly bare as the veterinary officer raised his eyebrows, and he reminded himself that for all Starfleet’s scientific breakthroughs, mindreading was not one of them. His mission remained a secret. He hoped.

‘She’s in the aviary at the moment.’ Doctor Anderson tipped his head to a door at the far end of the room. ‘I’ll go get her for you.’

As the shorter man disappeared through the aviary door, Jim eyed the venom on the desk. His curiosity made him desperate to examine it, to skim over the documents sitting next to it as well. The notes were on old-fashioned paper instead of a PADD and bore the neat, looping handwriting that he knew belonged to Reyne.

Only the memory of Bone’s lecture about touching things that he had no business touching stopped him. Sometimes the cure was worse than the disease, he’d discovered; especially when the cure involved admitting to Bones that he touched the thing he had told him not to.

Jim’s moral dilemma was cut short as the aviary door swung open once more. Reyne brushed a few stray feathers from her science blues as she headed towards him.

‘Murray said you wanted to speak to me?’ A wry smile twisted her mouth as she took note of the flush creeping up from beneath his shirt. ‘Why don’t we talk in my office?’

Jim just nodded mutely and followed the dark-haired woman into a small room tucked into the back of the menagerie. The space was filled by two desks piled high with PADDs and stacks of real paper.

Reyne threw herself into one of the chairs and regarded him with those startling eyes.

‘Is this about the creatures you’ve been releasing onto the bridge?’

The way his eyes widened a fraction told her everything she needed to know about the ‘accidental’ incidents on the bridge, just as she was sure that Commander Spock’s information would further corroborate the evidence.

‘No.’ The captain was making a valiant effort at keeping his composure, although the faint sheen of moisture on his forehead belied the fact that he was sweating like a green cadet at their first disciplinary meeting. It was nice to see the golden Captain James T Kirk squirm for once. ‘I was wondering if you’d like to go out for dinner with me during shore leave next week.’

Reyne’s eyebrows shot up. Well she hasn’t been expecting that.

Now it was her turn to flush; though she would later blame it on Murray fiddling with the thermostat, even though the ship’s computer kept the menagerie at a constant temperate.

Reyne made herself hold her tongue; an overeager yes would do nothing good for Jim’s ego. Besides, there was also the implications of dating her superior to consider. Not that Captain Kirk seemed like the type to ruin her career for turning him down.

She rearranged a stack of PADDs before meeting those damnably blue eyes. Surprise hit her when she saw that there was none of the cocky, flirtatious man she had come to expect in his expression. The Jim Kirk before her was bare, gazing at her with such raw hope that she was momentarily at a loss for words.

‘I’d like that.’

It was almost comical how Jim visibly sagged with relief, his eyes lighting up as he gave her a crooked grin.

‘Great, how does Tuesday at 8pm in the main plaza sound? There’s this fantastic little place that Scotty and I went to last time we docked at Yorktown. Their steak is excellent.’

Reyne couldn’t help but return his grin. The man was like a puppy – all bouncing exuberance and unshakable optimism. She had to refrain from check to see if he had a tail that was wagging.

‘I’ll be there.’

With a pleased nod and a final grin, Jim turned to leave the office, giving a jaunty wave to Murray on his way out. Nope, definitely no wagging tail but from her vantage point she had a truly spectacular view of the Captain’s ass.

Her co-worker waited all of five seconds after Jim had left the menagerie to pop his head round the door of their shared office.

‘I take it the captain finally found the balls to ask you out then?’ Murray’s eyes glinted with wicked delight behind his thick glasses.

‘Wait what?’ Reyne jerked her head up to glare at her friend. ‘How did you know?’

Murray snorted and strode over to his desk, shifting a stack of paper from his chair.

‘Ree, everyone on the ship knows that the captain has been pining after you for months. There’s a betting pool on when he would finally grow a pair and make a move. Michael and Stephen owe me 50 credits each – most of the medbay bet that he’d get drunkenly confess his feelings for you during shore leave.’

Murray’s smug grin only got wider as she gaped at him.

‘Seriously?’ Reyne fought back the urge to throw something at him. ‘I need to have a word with Doctor McCoy about keeping his nurses in line.’

‘He put the most into the medbay pool. Cookie?’

‘Those are mine!’ Murray just shrugged and popped the biscuit into his mouth.

‘I’ll buy you more; your love life has made me a lot of credits.’

Reyne sank further into her chair and stifled the urge to strangle her co-workers. But even this couldn’t dampen the bubbly feeling in her chest. The one that certainly didn’t have anything to do with one Captain James T Kirk.

!

!

Jim was above doing a victory dance. Really, he was. But that didn’t quite diminish the bounce in his step as he made his way to the medbay. Bones was gonna love this.

#oc's are people too #oc appreciation day 2020 #star trek #jim kirk #jim kirk x oc #spock #bones #ofc #fanfic