Chapter 11, Loneliness

Back on the Enterprise, Kirk dismissed the landing party, after listening to McCoy's instructions to re-hydrate and agreeing to see him later to ensure his fluids were restored. He did a quick check-in with the Bridge before returning to his quarters for a much-needed shower.

Sulu, who he left in command, reported nothing unusual. Neither did Scotty, who asked him if they could meet for a drink in the Officer's Lounge later that night. He agreed, pleased that some of the senior crew were finally starting to reach out to him.

Truth was, he didn't make friends easily. He was fine with small talk, even flirting with many of the attractive female aliens he'd encountered on past missions, and had enjoyed more than his fair share of quick little romances.

He'd been thrilled to be offered command of the Enterprise, but he also understood that he was selected in part because of his attractiveness and ability to get along with beings from all cultures and planets. But he also knew his appointment was made over the heads of other, more experienced captains and that there had been quite a bit of grumbling at the "pretty boy's" appointment.

Once on board, he found himself with a crew of virtual strangers. He had met Spock years ago when the Vulcan was still at the Academy, and Scotty some years ago when they served together on a brief mission to the far edge of the Alpha Quadrant to investigate a possible source of dilithium.

But now, at the top of the command heap, on a ship he hadn't served previously, it was a little lonely. So Scotty's invitation was a much-welcomed diversion from his usual duties that he'd allowed to consume his off-duty time. It was certainly better than brooding.

The Captain having departed the transporter room, McCoy looked over at Spock. "See me in Sick Bay," he ordered the Vulcan, who raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't give me the brow," he warned. "I'm immune to your little diversionary tactics, Spock."

Chapel giggled.

"You too, Nurse. I want to make sure your system isn't overloaded with that Vulcan voodoo."

Once in Sick Bay, McCoy motioned Spock to sit. "Let me check Christine first."

Spock followed him into the exam station. "What are you doing here, Spock?" McCoy asked. "I told you to wait outside."

"I cannot allow you to examine Christine without my presence, Doctor," Spock responded calmly.

"Come again?"

"Do I need to repeat myself, McCoy?"

Spock never called him McCoy. It was either Doctor, or Dr. McCoy. He'd refer to him by his surname, but never actually called him that. Once or twice, he'd called him Leonard and referred to him as such in the presence of his parents. But McCoy? Never.

Chapel giggled again. McCoy sighed.

"Christine, if it's all right with you, can Spock watch the exam from over there?" he gestured to a seat next to the exam table where he normally spoke to patients before they hopped on an exam pod.

"I prefer to stand."

"I was speaking to Christine, Spock, not to you."

"T'hy'la?"

"What?" Chapel asked, as McCoy sighed.

"T'hy'la." It is the name one addresses to one's beloved."

Chapel's eyes opened wide.

"And to close friends, Spock," McCoy interjected. "Unless there's been an arrangement I wasn't aware of."

"Christine…are you offended if I call you my t'hy'la?"

"I…uh…" Chapel looked to McCoy, who shrugged.

"Leave her alone, Spock. She's probably a little dehydrated from visiting that burning ball of sand you call home."

Spock sat down, looking almost dejected. "Christine, you must know, I would never wish to offend you or make you uncomfortable."

McCoy took a scanner to Christine. "Yeah, you've lost some fluids. I'll hook up an IV. But more so, your hormonal levels are high. It's probably because of your proximity to Spock here."

"Do I need to do anything?"

McCoy looked directly at her. "Well, darlin', I'd suggest a BC booster if you plan on hanging out with Mr. Spock much longer."

"A BC booster?"

"It is the burning," Spock said. To McCoy's ears, his sounded sad. "I am afraid you have it as well."

"Is there a, um, a cure?" Chapel asked, struggling to not laugh. She wasn't sure why she had to struggle; she felt her mind was veering off on a course of its own.

"Yes." Spock and McCoy spoke in unison.

The answer baffled her for a moment. Then she got it. "Oh, I see."

McCoy shooed them out of sickbay an hour later after giving Chapel an IV to restore her fluids and a BC shot for them both. Spock could have left but insisted on remaining with Chapel.

"Both of you need to drink a lot of water the next few days," he advised. "Let me know if you need medical leave."

They stood alone together, outside Sick Bay, not sure what to do next.

"Well, um, I'd like get back to my quarters for a shower," Chapel finally said.

"I can offer you a water shower," Spock said.

"Really?"

"Of course. It would be illogical to offer something I cannot provide."

"No, I mean, how? We have water showers in Sick Bay but they are for patients who need hydrotherapy."

"Senior officers are given an allocation for water showers. You are welcome to mine, Christine."

It was too hard to resist. A quarter-hour later, she stood under a warm water spray for the first time since she'd boarded the Enterprise seven months prior. She could hear Spock strumming his lyre just outside the head.

Kirk was enjoying his own water shower. The cool water felt good after Vulcan's heat. He wondered how McCoy and other Humans handled living on Vulcan.

Or Spock's mother for that matter. It was no real secret to Starfleet's upper echelon that the senior Vulcan in the service was not just the first to enter the Academy. He was also the son of Sarek, Vulcan's famed ambassador to Terra, and his Human wife.

Kirk had never met Sarek but had heard him speak at the Academy about how Vulcan was dedicated to working with Terra on furthering space exploration. At the time, he couldn't have possibly foreseen that his own, and only, child would be the first Vulcan cadet. The handful of Vulcan who followed now-Admiral T'Pol into Starfleet came from the Vulcan Defence Force. Spock was the first Vulcan to go through the full Academy program.

He wondered when his First Officer would open up and tell him about his famous father. Why hadn't Sarek and his wife been at the almost-wedding? Vulcan traditions and norms were still largely a mystery to him. He'd have to learn as he went along, just as Archer had so many years ago.

He dressed in casual off-duty clothes and headed to the Officers Lounge to meet Scotty. It was all he could do to not bound in like an overeager puppy. The engineer was already at the bar, chatting with the crewman who did double-duty tending bar and working in them mess. The crewman stood up straight at attention as Kirk approached the bar.

"At ease, Crewman."

Scotty stood up. "What can I get you Captain?"

"Mr. Scott, your taste is impeccable. I will have whatever you're drinking and it's on my tab. No arguing, he added," as Scott started to protest.

They took their drinks to a table near a window and sipped their drinks. Kirk looked at Scott. "MacPhail," Scott said. "Not the best but far from bad. Much better than that Kentucky water Dr. McCoy always orders."

Kirk grinned. "I don't have a dog in this fight, Mr. Scott, but I'll take your excellent opinion under serious consideration."

They chatted a bit about news from the Academy and changes in the engineering curriculum. "I keep tellin' them they can't lose the basics. Changing around some of the upper-level courses is fine but the core coursework can't be fiddled with."

"Captain," Scott said after a few minutes. "I hafta know, is Mr. Spock going to be all right?"

Kirk took a breath. Scott was a senior officer and often relied on the Science Officer for backup. He needed to know more than he'd explained to the bridge crew. He deserved to know.

"Scotty, everything I tell you must be confidential. You understand, correct?" Scott nodded.

"Mr. Spock has been going through a physiological, or biological—I'm really not sure how to categorize it—process that is quite normal for Vulcans his age. He needed to go to Vulcan to sort out a relationship issue that could determine how he should proceed."

"Please tell me he didn't marry that girl," Scotty said.

Kirk blinked. "You knew about this?"

"Aye. I knew Spock at the Academy. He was a coupla years behind me, well, he actually graduated just one year after me since he tested out so many classes what with a degree from Vulcan Science. We were teammates."

"On the hockey team."

"Aye."

"Funny, I actually met Spock after a game his junior year, I think it was. I went to a game with a friend who'd also played when he was in the Academy. Would I have seen you playing then?"

"Ah, 'tis possible. I played at left wing but my senior year I deferred to another player who was serious about goin' pro after finishing duty. I knew I wasn't pro material."

"It was against Notre Dame. Spock came out in the second half and the crowd went nuts, yelling 'Live Long and Prosper' and all that."

Scot grinned. "Spock never knew what to make of that. Yes, I substituted a few times in that game. I remember a crowded penalty box."

Kirk shook his head. "I knew Spock is close to McCoy and I know you call on him to help every now and then—"

"Very often, in fact, Captain. Mr. Spock is a…a genius."

Kirk smiled. "You may well be right about that, Mr. Scott. He's certainly hard to beat at chess."

"So, Captain—this Vulcan thing he's going through—will he be all right?"

"You're worried about him."

"Aye, sir."

"I think Mr. Spock knows what he wants and doesn't want. I think he's prepared to do what it takes to live the life he wants, and that includes his friends. Old friends like you."

"And like you, too, sir."

Kirk took a sip. "I hope so Mr. Scott, I certainly do."

"Aye, I think so, sir. You're good people."

Kirk tipped his glass in acknowledgement. "You're good people, too, Mr. Scott."

"Is it lonely at the top, sir?"

"It was, Mr. Scott, until Spock asked me to accompany him to Vulcan and you invited me to meet here for a drink."

"But you meet regularly with officers and staff here, Captain."

"Yes, I do, but that's scheduled. Just meeting and talking with a friend, now that's different. And it makes me feel less alone. Much more so."

He looked at Scott's empty glass and tipped his back to finish. "Scotty, let me introduce you to a good friend of mine I brought on board, Mr. Dalmore."

Christine turned off the shower, grabbed a towel Spock left for her, and wrapped herself in it. She took another towel hanging on the door for her hair. It smelled faintly like Spock himself whenever they happened to bump into one another early in his shifts.

She opened a bag she'd brought with her, found her brush and some light body spray and brushed out her hair. She pulled on a pair of light capris and t-shirt. It was a bit difficult dressing in the tight head space.

"Ouch! Damn!" she yelled as her elbow smacked against the basin.

"Christine? Are you injured?" Spock called from outside.

"No, I just hit my funnybone."

"Funnybone?"

"My ulnar nerve. I hit it against the basin."

"Ah. You could have dressed out here."

She emerged from the head and shook out her arm. "I wasn't sure if that was wise."

He looked directly at her. "I would never wish you to be uncomfortable. Or injured. And for the record, I am a Vulcan. I am in control of my emotions."

"Except when you aren't, Spock."

He sighed and lay down his lyre. "Christine, I do not know what to do. I desire you greatly, but I cannot—I will not—force you or otherwise persuade you to do something with which you are not fully in agreement."

"Even if it would restore you to you usual logical self?"

He nodded.

Christine sighed. "How is it logical for me to leave you in such a state when I find that doing so leaves me nearly the same?"

She walked over to where he sat and stood over him. He looked up at her. "I feel alone without you," she said. "Lonely. I thought I was used to it."

She drew a hand through his short hair and marveled at how soft it was. He closed his eyes and leaned his head into her hand. "It is not logical," she murmured and leaned down to kiss him.