A/N: And once again we come to the end. What happened in the interim between the 5-year mission and TMP is something that bothered me for years, but until recently, I never in my wildest dreams imagined that I'd be offering an explanation. And I have all of you to thank for that; those of you (thefallingstar, KCS, T'Paya, et al) who at the end of SDoS asked me, "what happens next?" To be quite honest, I hadn't intended to write a sequel, but you got me thinking, and asking questions, and S&D was born. I hope it didn't disappoint…

Chapter 6

Kirk – post TMP

Kirk sat alone in his quarters, reflecting on the events of the past twenty-four hours. Two fine officers had given their lives today, but were they really gone, or had they simply transcended to a higher level of consciousness?

He experienced a pang of guilt at the loss. He'd pushed Decker into an emotional attachment to the probe bearing Ilia's face. In the end, that is what had saved them, saved Earth from complete annihilation, but had he had the right to do so?

What choice did I have? came the quick-fire answer to his rhetorical question. Ilia had died the moment V'Ger had taken her, and while Decker had ceased to exist as the person they knew, was he truly dead? Spock had described what they witnessed as a birth, and he'd been inclined to agree with that assessment. Besides, Decker had insisted it was what he wanted. In their previous lives, as long as one of them was beholden to Starfleet, there was no chance of a relationship between the young captain and his Deltan navigator. This had given each what they truly desired. Somehow, when he looked at things from this perspective, it made their losses slightly easier to bear. It had been almost three years since he'd had to choose who would live and who would die. Unfortunately, the choice didn't get any easier.

His thoughts now turned to Spock. My friend, where will you go from here? I was elated to hear that you would not be returning to Vulcan to complete Kolinahr, but the issues between us are still the same. Can we work together without jeopardizing those others around us? I've learned a lot over these past few years, most importantly that I miss having you at my side. I didn't fully realize just how much your presence had come to anchor me until it was gone, and I found myself lost, adrift for a time. However, I now know I can survive, even function without you if I have to, and as such, I don't fear your loss the way I once did.

But what have these three years apart taught you? When you first appeared on the ship, I was afraid the man I had known was gone for good, never to resurface again, but it seems V'Ger gave you the answers you sought. Now the question remains: Where will those answers take you? Over the course of the last day I watched your emotional pendulum swing from one extreme to the other. So where does that leave you? Will it finally settle somewhere in the middle? Is that what you want? And where do your previous relationships – with your parents, with the crew, with McCoy…with me – fit in to all of this?

I saw the spark of my old friend reemerge from his self-imposed prison of non-emotion, of separation from all those you once knew and cared about, but will this pattern continue? Or was it the heat of the moment that made you laugh and cry; that made you cling to me in sickbay like a dying man fighting for his last breath?

I don't have the answers – they lie squarely with you and I refuse to push and take the chance of driving you away once again. The choice is yours, my friend, and I will respect whatever decision you make.

These thoughts were interrupted by the buzzer to his quarters. "Come," he called softly, depressing the switch to disengage the lock.

The sight that met his eyes made his breath catch in his throat. Spock was standing just inside the doors, hesitant, unsure…

McCoy – post TMP

He sat before the comm unit, staring at the blank screen. The last two and a half years had been wonderful – their rocky past notwithstanding, he had managed to reconnect with his daughter on a level he would not have thought possible. He had promised to never leave her again; as a matter-of-fact, on that auspicious day almost three years ago when he had confronted Nogura in his office, he had vowed to never set foot on a starship again – yet he felt compelled to remain here. Not out of a sense of duty to Starfleet, or even a sense of obligation to Jim and Spock, but because during his time in space he had made a difference. He'd discovered new and innovative medical techniques that were now being incorporated into standard therapeutic procedures throughout the Federation. That's where his true passion lay, and he would not have been able to pursue and refine these advances had it not been for the time he spent aboard the Enterprise. In a flash of inspiration he realized this summed up the philosophy of Kaiidth. This was where the universe meant for him to be, and where he could do the most good, contribute to bettering the lives of others.

As much as he had enjoyed being back home and ministering to the neighborhood and people who had watched out for him as a child, he realized that he could give more to the medical community out on the front lines of his chosen profession, standing on the cutting edge of new medical breakthroughs and advancements.

He took a fortifying breath and keyed in the numbers to connect him to his daughter. In a few moments her face filled the screen.

"Dad! Thank God you're okay!" He watched her eyes drink him in, a wide smile on her face and a tear of relief sliding down her cheek. "I'm assuming that whatever crisis caused you to be recalled to active duty has been averted?"

How insightful of her to realize it had been a matter of life and death. "Yeah. Our mission was successful." He didn't dare say anything more.

"That's great! Then you'll be home soon?" She didn't give him a chance to respond. "Mark and I can't wait for you to get back. We have news – oh daddy, I'm pregnant!" She was beaming, Mark coming to stand behind her, a gentle hand rested on her shoulder.

He was torn between that joyous news and his own selfish reason for this call. He put on his best happy face. "Oh honey, that's terrific! I'm tickled pink," he said sincerely, positively delighted by those glad tidings.

"It's a girl dad, and we've already decided on a name for her – Amanda Aurelan Kinney. These two men have meant more to both of us than we can ever make them understand. Even though I haven't met them face-to-face I feel like I know them – like they're my surrogate uncles or something – after listening to all your stories about them, and this is my way to thank them for keeping you safe for all those years." The sheer delight of the moment was etched on her face.

"Jim and Spock will be pleased," he stated, his voice unable to muster the genuine enthusiasm he felt.

"Dad, what's wrong? There's something you're not telling me." There was that look again. It never ceased to amaze him how accurately she'd learned to assess his moods in the short time they'd been together.

"Our mission was successful, but captain Decker was killed in the process. Now there's nothing standing in Jim's way – he should be reinstated as captain of the Enterprise," he admitted miserably, averting his eyes.

"I see." He glanced up from under his lashes, watching as she carried that statement to its logical conclusion. "And you've decided to stay on as his CMO."

"The decision isn't carved in stone yet. I wanted to run it by you first." A heavy weight settled somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach.

"It's too bad Mr. Spock is still on Vulcan – it'd be a chance for the three of you to be together again, doing what you love most." Her look was altruistic, obviously wanting what was best for him.

"Ironically enough, Spock is here. I don't know how the hell he does it, but that damned Vulcan managed to show up just when we needed him most. At first, his motives were a little suspect, but he came around eventually." An unsolicited feeling of affection tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Then it's all settled. Of course you have to stay. And you know, dad, I think they need you more than I do." She stopped and grinned. "Whoops – that didn't come out right at all. You know I love you dad, and I'll always need you, but I've come into my own during these last three years thanks to you. I'm not that scared, unsure little girl anymore who was afraid to step out of her comfort zone.

"And you, for all your talk of being home and having both feet planted firmly on the ground, I got the impression that you missed your time in space, your time with your friends. It's okay to let go, daddy – I don't see it as rejection now, but as the normal progression of life. I'll always be your little girl and you'll always be my dad, but we each have to pursue what's important to us. Yes, you made a difference here on Earth, but you can make a bigger one in space.

"And Mark has stepped easily into the practice, the clients love him almost as much as they loved you. So you don't have to worry about them – they'll be taken care of, too. And I think if you think about this carefully, and consider it from all sides, you'll come to the same conclusion. Some of the research and new medical techniques you developed would never have come about without your experiences in space. That's where you can do the most good, and that's what you should strive to do. A very wise man once taught me that," she finished, beaming at him.

He could only stare mutely at the screen, his eyes burning, trying to draw breath around the tightness in his throat. God, he loved this child. Of all the things he had done in his life, she was by far the best. "Honey are you sure? I promised I'd never leave you again, and I meant it."

"That promise was made to a different person. I'm not that same girl anymore, and I certainly wouldn't be selfish enough to deprive the galaxy of the things you can offer it. You're my dad, and always will be, but it's time for us to go our separate ways. That doesn't mean we don't love each other, or aren't important to one another, but it's time for a new chapter in our lives. I get that now, dad, and don't want to be the one who holds you back, who keeps you from living up to your potential. Go for it, daddy – it's what you were born to do." She graced him with a sweet smile, full of heartfelt warmth and pride.

"I love you, Dandy Lion, you know that?" he said, his voice none too steady, absently wiping at an eye.

She winked back at him. "I've never doubted that for a second, daddy." He saw her look shift slightly, and it tugged at his heartstrings. "So when will you be shipping out?"

"Not for a few weeks yet, I'm sure," he informed her, his voice regaining strength as they slipped onto firmer emotional turf. "We're in orbit now, and the ship still needs some work, but Jim isn't officially captain of the Enterprise yet. Frankly I'd be surprised if it takes him more than five minutes to make that happen after he meets with the Starfleet brass. Beyond that, I have no idea when they'd send us out again, but I'm certain there'd be enough time before we have to leave for you to finally meet Jim and Spock."

"I'd love that, dad." He could see her eyes well with tears, but the look on her face left no doubt that they were tears of joy.

"Now that you're a married woman I don't have to worry about Jim Kirk working his charm on you." They both grinned spontaneously at that. "Look honey, I've gotta run, but I'll call you as soon as I know anything definite, okay?"

"Deal. Mark and I will be looking forward to seeing the three of you." She covered the hand on her shoulder with her own. "Talk to you soon, dad. Love you. Oh and by the way, you look much better without the beard." And with a mischievous chuckle, the screen went dark.

Now all that was left to do was to go and talk to Jim.

Spock – post TMP

He retreated to the solitude of his quarters, feeling the emotions of those around him fall away as the doors slid closed. He had not brought an asenoi with him; in all honesty he hadn't intended to remain here at all.

He knelt in the middle of the room, eyes closed, pressing his hands together as if immersed in prayer, a deep, full breath serving to center him. Once his meld with V'Ger had demolished his shields, he'd been at the mercy of those emotions swirling around him: Fear that they wouldn't succeed, pride and relief that they had, satisfaction that they had performed well, joy at being reunited with old friends, love for their families that would now survive, and remorse and sorrow for those lives lost.

He'd been working at rebuilding his defenses bit by bit in an effort to at least allow him to function, but the process had been proceeding slowly. This was the first chance he'd had to be alone since that moment which had turned his view of the world completely upside down, and he set about the task decisively. While joining with V'Ger's mind had served as an epiphany for the course his life would now take, he was unprepared to be among his former shipmates once again without some measure of protection. He had lived the last three years under strict mental control, unused to the emotional turmoil present on a ship full of humans.

He felt the quiet surround him, soothing his frazzled nerves as he reached for the known, the familiar, the customary. And yet, somehow this meditation was different, tempered by what he had seen and experienced in the mind of V'Ger.

The alien consciousness had shown him definitively the futility of denying his human half; in spite of this he knew without question that he still wouldn't allow it to dominate his personality. He had spent his whole life up to now living as a Vulcan; that couldn't simply be undone. He would find a way to make both sides of his personality work together, maybe not harmoniously at all times, but he would never again deny one in favor of the other. Each had a place and a purpose in his life. People had been telling him this for most of his life. Until V'Ger, he just hadn't been able to see it, or more accurately, to believe it.

Words spoken by his mother, by Jim Kirk, McCoy, Stilek and T'Sai vied for his attention. Although each had made their point differently, ultimately the messages were the same – he could be the best of both worlds, if only he would permit it. V'Ger had made him understand fully the necessity of doing so.

Thoughts of Stilek caused his chest to tighten involuntarily. He knew his friend would be pleased with him. T'Sai had been most perceptive. They had helped each other. Once Spock understood fully Stilek's reason for coming to Gol, he had done all in his power to assist his friend on the path to Kolinahru. With Spock directing his efforts, he had progressed much more quickly than before.

And Stilek had helped him, the first full-blooded Vulcan who ever told him he shouldn't be ashamed of, but should celebrate, his human half. It occurred to him that T'Sai had known this all along, but had she been the one to present that idea to him, he would have dismissed it outright; seen it as undeniable proof that none of the masters believed he would be able to conquer the mind disciplines necessary to attain Kolinahr, and he would have stubbornly redoubled his efforts. He began to see those who had mastered Vulcan's most difficult mental undertaking in a whole new light – they were wise, indeed.

He experienced a twinge of regret that his friend had been unable to fully grasp the discipline of the mind necessary to survive Pon Farr in the time available to him, but unlike the guilt that had driven him to Gol, Spock didn't allow it to consume him. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried, or didn't want his friend to succeed. Some things just were. Kaiidth. Stilek had taught him much, about what it truly meant to be a Vulcan, and about himself. He would not forget, and would find a way to honor his friend's memory.

This friend might be gone, but he had been given a second chance with respect to his other two friends. And he would be sure to take full advantage of that most precious of gifts. Climbing to his feet, he made for the door to his quarters.

He needed to find Jim Kirk.

oooOOOooo

"Captain, request permission to enter."

Kirk was on his feet in an instant.

"Of course, Spock; please come in." A beat. "And please sit down," his captain said with a wry grin, gesturing to the chair across the desk as he settled back into his own.

This time, Spock sat without hesitation, but remained silent, unexpectedly and uncharacteristically unsure where, or how, to begin.

Sensing Spock's discomfort, Kirk took the initiative. "I didn't have a chance to say so before, but I want to thank you. Without your help I have no doubt we wouldn't have solved the mystery of V'Ger in time to prevent the destruction of Earth."

Spock refrained from speaking, instead nodding imperceptibly, acknowledging the complement before shifting in his seat. The silence stretched between them. Kirk's face was unreadable and he felt his determination waver.

"If now is an inopportune time, I can return when it suits you," Spock offered, suddenly overcome with trepidation. What if too much had happened over the past three years? What if he had hurt Kirk beyond the human's capacity for forgiveness?

"No, you aren't interrupting anything that can't wait. I just finished the letters to Decker's and Ilia's families, and now I'm working on McCoy's discharge papers." A beat. "I can start on yours as well."

"Thank you, sir, but that will not be necessary." He drew a steadying breath.

"If that's the case, then I suppose it's safe to assume you won't be completing your training at Gol?" A simple request for information, asked without allusion or expectation.

"This mission has afforded me the answers I sought; there is no longer any need for me to do so." Succinct. To the point.

He watched Kirk assimilate that, a wistful, ephemeral smile breaking over his captain's face. "I can't say I'm disappointed, Mr. Spock. You would have lost so much of what makes you you." He paused, a question forming in the hazel eyes. Years of close contact with the man told Spock unequivocally that it wasn't the one his captain asked next. Despite Kirk's reticence, that told him all he needed to know. Relief flooded him.

"So, what are your plans then? Perhaps a posting to a Vulcan Science vessel?"

"Negative. It is no longer my destiny to walk solely among others of my kind. It will not provide me with what I require."

Kirk's eyes swiveled to his as his captain asked hesitantly, "and exactly what is it that you do require?"

"Expression," he responded immediately, knowing Kirk would remember the one other time he had given that answer.

His captain digested that admission in silence, understanding softening his features, relief playing about his eyes as well.

"You told me once that I would have to decide for myself how much emphasis I should place on the approbation of my people, and what, in the end, mattered the most to me." Spock stopped abruptly, his innate desire for privacy at war with his need to put his jumbled thoughts into words. Unfortunately, the years of denial and repression were not instantly undone by his encounter with the powerful alien consciousness. He fought to make his point, to ensure that Kirk understood fully the enormity of what he was trying to say.

"During my time at Gol, I did receive this acceptance from my peers. All doubted that a mere half-Vulcan could attain Kolinahr, and most were taken aback at my mastery over myself; in some ways it rivaled, even surpassed that of full-blooded candidates. I had finally obtained the approval I had subconsciously spent so many years seeking, and yet it still left me cold, empty, searching for answers." His eyes shifted to Kirk's, trying to express that which he was unable to say verbally, his inner turmoil swirling in their inky depths.

"I did not view the tape you sent me until a few days ago." He found himself unable to meet his captain's steady gaze, focusing instead on the stylus Kirk had set on his desk, the internal struggle now evident in the set of Spock's jaw, his stiff demeanor, his whispered confession.

"After two point eight years of intense training, I had convinced myself that your words would have no influence on me whatsoever." A lengthy pause. "It would seem that conclusion was reached in error." Again, a long moment of silence between them, the tension thick, heavy. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Kirk forcibly restrain himself from speaking, trying to afford Spock the time necessary to adequately express his thoughts before Jim clouded the waters with his own, his captain also dropping his gaze, lips tightly compressed, a hand folded around his chin.

"As usual, your words touched me on a level unattainable by others. Hearing your voice, seeing your face, was enough to stir all those old sentiments within me, despite the rigors of control I had mastered. It was that level of closeness between us which prompted V'Ger to touch my mind, and I found the link, which I had so carefully and painstakingly walled off, had flared back to life, much stronger and deeper than it was before." Lifting his head, his eyes sought and locked with Kirk's. "I heard you, Jim – not just the tenuous feelings or amorphous thoughts that marked the link in the past – but actual words. I heard you ask for my help, and found myself unable to refuse that request."

He could see a look of shock cross Kirk's face at that revelation, followed rapidly by one of embarrassment, remorse, regret. "I'm sorry, Spock. I didn't mean—"

"Jim, do not apologize." Strong emotions flared in the obsidian eyes. "I firmly believe now that it was fate, kaiidth, the will of the gods – whatever you wish to call it – that interceded at that moment. That kept me from making that decision, from turning my back on my human side. I know now this is a path that would have proved disastrous for me. My future lies elsewhere. It is my wish—"

"Spock, don't," Kirk interrupted quickly. "Don't say anything else. You don't have to." An awkward pause. "We said everything that needed to be said between us for the moment in sickbay." Now it was Kirk's turn to talk without speaking.

Without warning, Spock felt the link they shared spontaneously open, the mental barrier separating them suddenly shattered. He was instantly bombarded with Kirk's thoughts, knowing his own were assaulting his captain's mind in much the same manner. Kirk's initial feelings of astonishment changed quickly to joy, and then, inexplicably, hesitation. He felt Kirk struggle to tone down the emotions which were flowing unchecked across the slender thread.

His captain licked his lips before locking eyes with his former First. "I meant what I said when I promised to respect your choice, whatever that was. It's not my place to influence that decision. The course your life will now take must be totally up to you." Jim was regarding him earnestly, no amount of control able to mask the depth of his feelings.

The corners of Spock's mouth turned up and he graced Kirk with the slightest of smiles. "Master T'Sai expressed the same sentiment as well. Despite my almost three years of training, she informed me that the answers to my unique situation lay elsewhere, and V'Ger, and you, have provided them. My life has been and always shall be here, aboard the Enterprise, at your side. She has become my home, you and her crew my family. This is where I belong, I am sure of it now. I was foolish to have ever left."

He watched as Kirk's look of uncertainty changed to one of relief. "Me too, Spock. McCoy told me I'd lose myself if I couldn't be out among the stars, and it seems he was right." He stopped suddenly. "But there's more to it than just that. As much as I've always known my place was traveling the cosmos, it was being out there with you and McCoy, being captain of this fine ship and crew that made it worthwhile. I didn't realize until recently how very much I missed that, needed that." Loss and grief skimmed briefly over his captain's features.

He watched as Kirk's look turned introspective. "But I did learn something over the past three years. It taught me that I can go on without you. It was unpleasant and one of the hardest things I've ever done, but it made me realize that I can persevere, and even get by alone, if need be." He paused, the hazel eyes traveling swiftly over Spock's face.

"As have I. Perhaps this represents the answer to the question we were both asking ourselves at the end of the five-year mission."

"Yes, I believe it does." That boyish grin again; the one he used to charm the very angels from the feet of God. Spock found it still affected him much as it always had. "Too bad it took us three years to figure that out."

Kirk's look became distant, suffused with affection, as a new thought struck him. "You know, it's ironic that of the three of us, only McCoy was smart enough to do what was right for him. While I was just going through the motions of living for the last three years, Bones was thriving. He started his own practice in Georgia, and managed to reconnect with his daughter. Joanna is now married, and she and her husband both live and work with him. At first he was really upset with me for requesting him for this mission. Can you imagine that?" No hint of subtlety. Openly good-natured, teasing.

"'An emotional scene which brought the house down,' no doubt." Delivered in Spock's calm, even, measured tones, but laughter swam in the Vulcan's eyes.

Kirk chuckled softly in response. "You've got that right. It's just part of his charm, and I wouldn't have him any other way."

"I am forced to agree with you, Jim."

"I'll be sorry to see him go." The tension in the room had eased considerably as both men slipped effortlessly into their established behavioral patterns of the past. Kirk's grin widened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but the words were drowned out as the buzzer to his cabin sounded a second time, effectively halting this jaunt into familiar territory.

Epilogue

McCoy entered without preamble, not waiting for permission to be granted. Seeing the two of them together he hesitated, not wanting to interrupt what his gut told him was a deep, personal conversation, but Kirk waved him in, indicating the empty seat in front of his desk. He looked askance at Spock, who nodded slightly.

"If now's a bad time I can come back later," he offered contritely, coming to a stop in front of the proffered chair. If the two of them were finally connecting, he surely didn't want to come between that.

"Don't be ridiculous. We were just talking about you," Kirk responded immediately. "Weren't your ears burning?"

"No, but maybe if I had ears the size of Spock's they would've been." He sat heavily, his gaze shifting rapidly between the two, his mock cynicism turning sober all of a sudden. "All good, I hope."

"As a matter-of-fact, I was just finishing the paperwork to terminate your recall to active duty. You should be able to head home in just a few hours," Kirk informed him somewhat reluctantly, all trace of humor instantly evaporating.

McCoy cleared his throat nervously. "Well, you might want to rethink that, Jim."

"How so? Don't tell me Nogura's already assigned you somewhere else?" A concerned frown had settled between Kirk's brows.

"I'd like to see him try," McCoy answered hotly. "If that man thinks I'd go willingly, without a fight, just because he ordered me to, then he has no idea who he's dealing with." He paused, pursing his lips before continuing in a rush, "Do you want to know how fast I could set him up with a particularly severe case of Capellan Intestinal Flu? I can guarantee you his ass would be glued to the head for at least a week." He glanced at Spock, whose eyebrow had disappeared beneath his bangs at this vitriolic comment.

"Bones, you wouldn't," Kirk responded with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"The hell I would! Just watch me." Taking a deep, calming breath he began again. "Fortunately he hasn't tried, at least not yet. Do you think he's finally given up on me?" McCoy sounded hopeful.

"I'm quite sure he gave up on you long ago – you can subject a man to the discipline of the military, but that doesn't mean he'll have military discipline," Kirk supplied, the erudite statement a curious mix of wit and truth.

"Amen to that!" McCoy was grinning widely. "Does this mean we can now add 'warrior poet' to your vast repertoire, Jim?"

Kirk responded with a subdued chuckle and a reproachful shake of the head. McCoy continued, the acerbic wit and levity shelved for the moment. "So what are your plans, Captain?"

"I would think that would be obvious, especially considering you were the one who insisted three years ago that I shouldn't give up my command, coupled with the fact that the Enterprise is now without her captain." The hazel eyes were more alive than he'd seen them since the end of the five-year mission. "I've decided it's time to do something about that."

"Come to your senses at last, have you? Sure as hell took you long enough." A beat. "And what about you, Mr. Spock? If you aren't returning to Vulcan, then what's next for you?" he asked, shifting his intense gaze to the phlegmatic, impassive face.

"It would seem V'Ger has ultimately allowed me to see the folly of denying my human half. All my life, others have tried to help me understand this, but I did not experience true enlightenment until I had first-hand contact with the empty, barren shell that was V'Ger, seeing for myself the effects of the sterility of existence that is born out of total non-emotion. Completing Kolinahr will no longer be necessary. My place is here, on this ship."

"Well it's a relief to see you've finally realized that total logic's not all it's cracked up to be." He grinned openly at the Vulcan.

"I would not go so far as to say that, Doctor," Spock admonished gently, thinking of T'Sai and the other masters at Gol. Somehow, it was right for them.

"Really? Well in the words of Rabindranath Tagore, 'A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.'" When he had accidentally stumbled across that quote almost two years ago, his vision had blurred suddenly as he realized he would probably never have the chance to spring these words on the Vulcan. At the moment he was positively reveling in the opportunity. Let's see you come up with a smart-assed response to that, he thought, quite pleased with himself.

Spock's eyebrow took wing again, the Vulcan catching his lower lip between his teeth before answering, "Crudely put, but essentially correct, at least in my case." The soft brown eyes met his.

"Am I hearing this right? Are you actually agreeing with me, Spock?" McCoy could not have been more shocked.

"I am merely indicating that given the evidence presented by recent events, there is some merit to this statement," the Vulcan assured him, his look innocent, completely ingenuous.

"Well, I never thought in a million years I'd be saying this but hooray for printed circuits and scary, super-advanced alien technology."

"Why Bones, you old softie. I always knew you had it in you," Kirk chimed in, favoring McCoy with a smug grin.

"And if either of you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll deny I ever said it."

"Don't worry Bones, your secret's safe with us." The captain smiled affectionately at the gruff surgeon, but it was fleeting. His look became solemn, reflecting his next words. "It would seem that the course for our futures is set. So what's next for you, Bones?"

"Right. Well, if you're both bound and determined to stay aboard this ship, then someone needs to be here to watch out for you two knuckleheads – Lord knows neither of you have a lick of common sense when it comes to self-preservation." He favored each with a stern look in turn.

"Can I take that to mean you're volunteering to stay on as my CMO?" Kirk was genuinely surprised at this unexpected turn of events.

"Against my better judgment, but that seems to be my destiny. I just finished talking to Joanna, and she told me unequivocally that I should stay here. She seems to think it's where I belong." Mention of his daughter brought an unexpected softness to his features. Incredulously. "You know Jim, she even said that the Enterprise needs me more than she does right now. Wonder where I've heard that idea before?" He locked eyes with Kirk, who grinned in response, the look he exchanged with McCoy saying much between them.

The captain then turned his attention to the Vulcan. "Can't argue with that logic, right Mr. Spock?" The dark head nodded in affirmation.

A long, uncomfortable silence ensued. McCoy was the first to break it. "So, uh, where do we go from here?" he asked quietly.

"Logically, the next step would be for the captain to request permanent assignment as the new commander of the Enterprise," Spock supplied matter-of-factly. "Once that has been accomplished, the rest should follow."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "No shit, Sherlock. Call me crazy, but I have no idea how I managed to get by for the last three years without you around to state the glaringly obvious for me, Spock." Thick with sarcasm.

Ignoring that comment, the Vulcan forged ahead. "An interesting, if colorful choice of metaphors, Doctor. As it turns out, I do have an Earth ancestor, far removed, of course, who went by that name."

"Oh for the love of God, Spock," McCoy retorted in an exasperated voice. "I really thought that recent events had given you a new perspective on things, but I can see you haven't changed one bit. You're the same old strait-laced, pain in the ass you always used to be." A pause. Softly. "And I guess that makes me a masochist, because I actually missed this."

Both their heads snapped to Kirk as a strangled snort escaped his lips.

"All right Jim, somehow I missed the joke. You mind telling me just what the hell's eating you now?"

By way of reply, Kirk dissolved into a fit of breathless laughter. When he was able to speak again, his answer was simple. "Me too, Bones, me too."

They were home at last.

Finis

oooOOOooo

Three songs served as inspiration for this piece: 'Afterglow' by Genesis, 'Guide Vocal' by Genesis, and 'Where Are We Going From Here?' by Blackmore's Night. All three are on youtube; I'll let you decide which songs inspired which parts. ;-)