A/N: This is my take on the Enterprise's next mission after the episode "Amok Time." It will be a multi-chapter story. The Spock/Kirk/McCoy dynamic is purely friendship in this fic. Thanks so much for reading and all reviews are appreciated.

Spock never willingly took a day off in his life. Today, as he cut through the water of the Enterprise's Federation Olympic Games-sized swimming pool, was no different. Doctor McCoy had demanded that Spock rest for at least two days, as a needed cool down period from the events of his abnormal pon farr and koon-ut-kal-if-fee ceremony.

"Believe me, Spock, I'm not doubting the strength of your constitution when I say that you need some time off. Few people can even survive those levels of chemical imbalance for as long as you did," the Doctor counseled as he, Spock, and Kirk had walked through the halls of the Enterprise.

"I assure you, Doctor, my logic has returned to me and I am completely fit for duty."

Just then, they came to Spock's quarters, and McCoy spied a glint of porcelain out of the corner of his eye. He picked it up and instantly knew it to be a piece of the soup bowl that Nurse Chapel had tried to serve Spock hours before. Kirk caught on, too, and stifled a laugh, something he could only do now that Spock was no longer in danger.

"Are you sure about that, Spock?" McCoy had said as he dangled the shard of bowl in front of Spock's face.

Spock's refusal to temporarily step down from duty was met with Captain Kirk's order for Spock to rest. He had begrudgingly obeyed the Captain, but only because he was so grateful that Jim was alive and able to order him around. In the meantime, Bones, Jim, and many of the ship's officers attended the Planetary President's inauguration ceremony on Altair VI.

With Scotty in command, Spock had the pool all to himself. Surfacing on one end of the pool, Spock took a break and began to tread water. Not many people swam on Vulcan, for water was used sparingly, and Vulcans viewed the sport as rather wasteful. However, Spock had taken to the sport during his time in the Academy's mandatory physical training courses. He found the water refreshing and the fluid, methodical motion of the strokes to be helpful to his meditation. Water is quite like the mind; it becomes stagnant without stimulation. The pool was certainly awake now, glistening blue in little waves brought on by all of the splashing. He resumed his laps with the butterfly stroke. Vulcans did not have words for different styles of swimming, so Spock was forced to marvel at the colorful language Earth people used.

Spock decided to meditate once more on the events of the past few days. He had already relived them multiple times in his mind in order to brand them onto his memory. But, his logic was beginning to return to him and perhaps there was something he had missed. T'Pring had called him a "legend" among Vulcans. He did not wish to be considered such, as he was undeserving of this honorable title. A "legend" was a Vulcan with the integrity of Surak, not himself. But he supposed that his unique parentage and enlistment in Starfleet would always label him. He could deal with any labels that were thrust upon him; as a young child, his peers had thrown many creative insults his way.

Suddenly, something else appeared in Spock's thoughts that he had not considered before. The water's comfortable (by human standards) temperature of 80 degrees Fahrenheit abruptly caused a chill to run through his body. His unpreparedness for this pon farr had greatly troubled him. He had harmed personnel, frightened Nurse Chapel, and performed actions that he didn't even remember performing. Therefore, Spock was determined to be ready next time. It was logical to think ahead – even seven years – in order to prevent further damage at his hand when this "blood-fever" overtook him again.

Spock decided that 20.4375 more laps would be sufficient for formulating this plan. Actually, 21 laps would be sufficient so as not to conclude his session in the middle of the swimming pool.

Must I take a new mate? How far in advance must the bonding ceremony happen? Admittedly, he had not given these matters any thought. From his youth, he knew that he was bonded to T'Pring and assumed they would be married. If pon farr symptoms had not manifested – which he hoped they wouldn't – due to his mother's human blood, he would never have returned for the ceremony. T'Pring would never have joined Starfleet and Spock never would have left. This realization jarred him. Was living among humans all this time causing him to prioritize his career in Starfleet over his duties as a Vulcan? He immediately scolded himself for dwelling on hypothetical situations that in no way aided in solving the questions at hand. He could not change what happened. T'Pring hadn't wanted him.

"Weeoooh." The intercom in the pool chamber chimed, awakening Spock from his flooding thoughts. As the only one in the room, he must answer the message. He quickly pulled himself out the pool and rushed over to the station, his Starfleet waterproof uniform dripping wet. He didn't bother stopping to towel off.

"Spock here."

"Mister Spock, you're going to like this. As much as I hate to do it, we need you on the bridge," Captain Kirk said in a steady voice with a hint of distress.

Spock was puzzled, but intrigued. "Captain, I do not understand, was not your presence requested at the ceremony on Altair VI -?"

"We returned six hours ago, Spock! I gave your regards to the Planetary President. Since leaving orbit, something had come up. Are you well enough to report to the Bridge?"

How long have I been here? Spock thought. But there was no time to wonder. Jim needed him and he would not disappoint.

"Yes, Captain. I can meet you on the Bridge in ten standard minutes. What is the trouble?" Spock asked the intercom.

"We are receiving a distress call from a planet that won't identify itself, and appears nowhere on our sensors. Acting science officer Pearson is working hard to solve the dilemma. I hate to call you back into duty so soon, but we need your analysis. I owe you one."

"On my way. Spock out." He grabbed a towel and headed out the door. No, I owe you one, Jim.