Jim woke up to the sound of Bones swearing and pounding on the door. He groaned and sat up. He distantly noted that he must not have been badly hurt since the doctor hadn't immediately been at his side, checking him over. As the doctor's tirade registered he relaxed. Bones was just cursing Spock up and down, nothing unusual.

"I swear to god, Spock! If you don't open this door this instant I am going to declare you unfit for away missions! You know I can!"

Jim glanced up with an amused smirk. "Bones, did you just threaten to ground Spock?"

The doctor whirled on him. "It's not the time, Jim!" He snapped. "He's gone off his Vulcan rocker!"

"Oh, and what's he done this time?" Jim laughed. Bones scowled at him.

"He knocked you out with a nerve pinch and locked us in this room." Jim lost his smile. "And this damn tin can seems to be moving." He added. Jim stood, and went to the window. It was covered with an old fashioned, out of place curtain that reminded Jim vaguely of his grandmother's house in the country. The captain threw it aside and tensed as he saw they were pulling away from the space station. They were already past the docking bay and moving into deeper space.

"What the hell?" He muttered.

"Jim, would you close that blasted thing and come up with a way to get out of here?" Bones growled.

"Oh, sorry, Bones." Jim hurriedly pulled the faded curtain back in place and paused. He glanced up at the rod holding the fabric in place, and sure enough, the wear on the screws indicated it had been installed recently. Homey drapes weren't exactly in high demand on a luxury yacht like this… unless you planned on having a certain agoraphobic doctor onboard. Jim turned and surveyed the rest of the cabin, his eyes passing briefly over Bones, whose head was still turned resolutely away from the window. Two beds, one with a shelf beside it holding the books he'd been immediately taken with, the other with a nightstand with a dozen PADDs stacked neatly on top of it. Jim crossed the room and picked one of the PADDs up. It was one of the more recently published medical journals Bones read.

When Jim pulled out the drawer to dresser between the two beds he found a traditional chessboard and the assorted pieces, checkers, and a thin briefcase he recognized as backgammon. Jim's jaw clenched. Spock had clearly planned this. He'd stocked the cabin to suit them specifically, even offering alternatives to chess (which McCoy quite vocally disliked). If Spock had been this meticulous about comfort in their accommodations he would have been even more obsessive about security.

There's no way they were going to be able to escape through the usual methods.

Jim returned his gaze to Bones. The doctor had resumed hurling abuse at the door and ceiling (where he clearly thought a camera might be located). He tried to not smile as he wrapped up a rant about how he wasn't going near that weird soup that Vulcans called a meal so he'd better have brought something edible for humans. This was serious, something was really wrong with Spock. He and McCoy had tried to avoid it, mitigate it, hope it would go away, but now they were trapped on a luxury yacht headed god knows where. Kidnapped by one of their best friends. Jim felt the vibrations under his feet change. He groaned and put his face in his hands. He didn't even have to go to the window to know that they had gone to warp.

Bones started in on a new rant about how humans required rest to properly function and all of this stress wasn't good for his blood pressure. An intercom system came to life. "Doctor, I am monitoring your vitals. While your blood pressure has increased significantly, you are in no danger of either heart attack or stroke." Spock stated.

"Oh, now you're going to talk to me?" Bones snarled. "Get in here, Spock!" He scowled at the ceiling.

"Negative, Doctor." Spock replied. Kirk set his jaw while the doctor spluttered.

"Commander," He said, his voice becoming the serious tone of the captain speaking to his first officer. "Drop the ship out of warp and open this door." His hands clenched as seconds ticked by without a response from the Vulcan.

"Negative, Captain." Spock said at last. Kirk grit his teeth.

"This is mutiny, Spock." He warned.

"Negative, Captain." Spock disagreed. "It is insubordination. Mutiny requires a collective."

"Spock!" Kirk snapped, hitting the door in frustration. "What exactly do you think you are doing?"

"I am protecting you." Spock answered. "Nourishment will be provided in three hours and twenty eight minutes." The intercom cut out as Bones started in on his furious tirade.

As Kirk expected, there wasn't much in the cabin that he and Bones were confined to that they could use to make their escape. The adjoining bathroom (complete with hot tub) seemed more promising but all cleaning supplies had been removed. All that remained were basic hygiene products and a hamper for clothing.

Bones had shouted himself horse and was now pacing restlessly in front of the door. "Relax." Kirk sighed. "Check the drawers on your side, would you?" The doctor whirled on him.

"Is that the best you got?! Spock is out of his mind and you want me to look at what he's packed for us?!" He snapped.

"I've already looked for tools, Bones." The captain explained patiently. "We might as well look at what he's given us." McCoy glowered at him, then moved across the room to wrench open the drawers on his side, ignoring the shared bed stand full of games that Kirk had already examined. "Shirts, pants, underclothes, not sure how I feel about that." He muttered. "Glad to have them, annoyed they were picked out by my LEAST FAVORITE VULCAN!" He raised his voice, clearly intending for Spock to hear him. Kirk shook his head. "Oh look, a bathing suit." McCoy rolled his eyes. "How considerate."

"Must be for the hot tub." Kirk commented, unearthing his own pair of swim trunks. He might actually indulge if they were there for too long.

"Yes, because clearly a hot tub will help us relax during a KIDNAPPING!" He shouted again.

"He clearly knows that he kidnapped us. Yelling it at the ceiling isn't going to make him suddenly turn this ship around." Kirk pointed out.

"Maybe not, but it makes me feel better!" McCoy shot back.

The door slid open. McCoy and Kirk whipped around to face it. "That is most illogical, Doctor." Spock stepped inside, holding a large tray laden with food in front of him. The door closed before the prisoners could make a break for it. He eyed both of them warily. "I would remind you both that I am significantly stronger than the two of you combined. Attempting to subdue me would be futile." McCoy scoffed and stalked over to him.

"I'm not an idiot." He growled, and snatched the plate of gumbo off the tray. "And I'm not about to attack you. Either you're doing this because you are sick, and I'm not going to attack a patient, or you've lost your mind and I'm not about to provoke a mad man."

"You are not an idiot." Spock agreed. "Often illogical, but your intellect is above average."

"Damn right it is." McCoy grumbled, and stomped away from the Vulcan. Spock met his captain's eyes next.

"Your lunch, Captain." He stepped farther into the room. Kirk's jaw set as he considered his options.

"I'm not hungry." He said flatly. "Take us back to the station, Spock. I'll eat there." Spock paused.

"Captain, I recognize this strain of resistance. I must inform you that a hunger strike will be ineffective. I will not permit you to harm yourself through deprivation." McCoy glanced up and then down at his gumbo. He sighed heavily and put it down on the nightstand beside his bed. Spock tensed.

"I have no wish to force you to consume nourishment, but you require food and I will ensure that that need is met." He turned and placed the tray, with the rest of the food, on a table beside the door. "I will return shortly. Please reconsider your chosen form of resistance."

He left. Kirk started towards the door, but it was sealed shut and locked tight when he reached it. "Too bad, it's damn fine looking gumbo." McCoy said mournfully. Kirk felt a twinge of guilt.

"Bones, you don't have to-"

"Oh, put a cork in it, Jim. You know I'll follow your lead." He snapped. He shoved the gumbo away. "But don't blame me if I get a bit snippy. I can get irritable when my blood sugar drops."

"Really? Then you need to eat more." Kirk joked. McCoy shot him a dirty look. "I didn't realize you restricted your own meal card too."

"Keep talking, Captain. See where this gumbo ends up." McCoy threatened. Kirk smirked. Then turned to look down at the food. He recognized it as food he usually ordered when he was under high-stress. Spock was very considerate for an emotionless Vulcan kidnapper.

Spock watched the screen from his seat in front of navigation. He stared as McCoy resolutely turned his back on the gumbo with a scowl etched on his face. Kirk inspected the food and shook his head before he turned away and returned to his bed. "Game of checkers?" He invited McCoy, reaching for the games drawer.

"Might as well." The doctor grumbled.

This was an unforeseen complication. The captain could be very obstinate in situations like this, and despite his complaints, McCoy was loyal enough to follow him in this ill thought out display of rebellion. Spock closed his eyes, his hands steepled in front of him. Logical arguments had no affect on the doctor, save angering him farther, and Kirk would eschew logic if he thought his course of action would produce the effect he desired.

Spock was tempted to mediate, but he'd been having more and more difficulty reaching the meditative state. It wasn't something he could easily do without incense or tea anymore. Tools that he hadn't required since he was a child were suddenly integral to his mental well being, if McCoy knew, he would doubtlessly view it as a worrying symptom. Spock could admit that it was disquieting. However, the difficulty he was having was certain to diminish now that the captain and the doctor were in his care and out of danger.

Spock took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He checked their route. They were on course for Vulcan. Admittedly a round about course, designed to throw off their pursuers. StarFleet was also a threat but Spock had filled out the paperwork need to misdirect them. As far as they knew Spock had requested permission to conduct a scientific survey on a planet known for its sporadic communication due to radiation from its star. He'd also left a paper trail that ensured anyone looking for Kirk and McCoy would find evidence that they had decided to accompany him to that planet. Spock estimated 3.42 days before his deception was discovered. Not enough time to reach Vulcan, where McCoy and Kirk would be protected from those who would do them harm, but enough time for Spock to throw them off his trail.

"Are you cheating?" McCoy's suspicious voice piped through the screen, drawing Spock's attention back to it. Kirk had reached his side of the board and was waiting for the doctor to king him.

"It's checkers, Bones. How would I cheat?" Kirk's voice held an air of amusement that Spock recognized from their chess games.

Spock watched them play for some time. It seemed to be having the same affect on him as incense. His mind relaxed. It wasn't meditation precisely, but it helped. As the tension drained from him the solution presented himself. Kirk might not be open to logic in this instance, but he was usually amenable to negotiation. Spock knew Kirk well, if it were only himself there would be no chance of compromise, but McCoy was going along with it and Kirk would make concessions to prevent the doctor from suffering. Spock's jaw set, as he began to plan for his next confrontation with the other two men who, despite his best efforts, continued to find ways to put themselves in harms way.