The silence was broken by the faint whine of the transporter as the shimmering iridescent light of twin containment beams gradually faded leaving an agitated human male and a tall Vulcan male standing side by side on the platform. The technician nodded to the men signaling that the transport process was completed.

Doctor Leonard McCoy made a hurried visual inventory of his body parts, verifying that all were present and in the correct order. The indignity of having his atoms scrambled like an omelet then reassembled like a three dimensional jigsaw puzzle, as always, grated on his nerves. He paused a moment to get his bearings, and to throw off the inevitable wave of nausea and lightheadedness that accompanied the transport process. Satisfied that he was at least a reasonable facsimile of his former self, he indulged in brief scowl at his Vulcan companion before gingerly attempting to step down from the platform.

"Do you require assistance, Doctor?" Spock asked.

"Not from you, you pointy eared, green blooded hob-"

Spock deftly raised his right hand in a universal gesture to stop. "I shall withdraw the question,Doctor."

"I don't know why you keep assigning me to all these blasted landing parties," McCoy grumbled harshly as the pair exited the transporter room. "You know I hate to use that infernal contraption. It's taken me fifty years to get all my atoms just where I want them and I don't need some high tech blender mixing them all up."

"Doctor," he replied with a sharp uptick of his eyebrow, "we have been over this countless times. The transporter mechanism is a scientifically crafted precision instrument not a kitchen appliance. It is a perfectly safe and efficient means of travel."

"I don't care," McCoy continued. "Why am I suddenly on every blasted landing party? Christine Chapel is an MD and perfectly qualified-"

The Vulcan shifted uncomfortably and raised his hand again, his face stern, his voice drenched in authority. "I believe we have had this conversation before as well, Doctor. As First Officer of this vessel the criteria for selecting personnel assigned to landing parties falls within my purview. At such time as you are First Officer, although the statistical probability of that is too minute to bother calculating, I shall gladly relinquish the aforementioned responsibility to you."

"Ah," McCoy responded realizing he'd struck a nerve, "It's Christine."

He'd harbored a growing suspicion in the past months that Spock had been intentionally avoiding the Chapel since his return to the Enterprise.

"This has nothing to do with Doctor Chapel."

"In a pig's eye it doesn't," McCoy responded. "You've scratched her from every landing party. You reassigned her overnight Science lab shifts-"

Spock raised his hand again but McCoy was on a roll and wasn't about to be stopped until he'd made his point.

"And you wouldn't let her do your recertification physical examination last month. Damn it, Spock, she's a fully qualified physician. You have no right to treat her like that."

"Doctor!" Spock interjected a bit too loudly, and then as if realizing the emotional note in his tone he straightened himself and took a deep breath. "Doctor", he repeated. "I assure you that I am fully aware of Doctor Chapel's qualifications."

"Then why the hell-"McCoy attempted to respond but Spock's steely glare cut him off brusquely.

"Doctor McCoy, I shall entertain no further discussion on this topic. We both have ship's business to attend and I suggest we do so."

"Speaking of ship's business," McCoy said, ignoring Spock's icy glare, "Could you come down to Sick Bay and take a look a-"

"Doctor McCoy, I am the First Officer of this vessel, not a handyman. If you need something repaired I would suggest you call Commander Scott in Engineering. I will be on the Bridge. Good day, Doctor."

"Good day!" McCoy called after the Spock as he entered the turbolift, waiting until the doors closed to add, "You green blooded, pointy eared hobgoblin".

…

McCoy's indignation grew stronger with each step as he walked the silent corridor to Sickbay. In the months since their encounter with V'ger he had come to see more Spock's human side than he'd seen in their entire five year tour of duty. After the meld with V'ger, Spock had been more open with the humans he'd previously held at arm's length. It wasn't unusual to see him chatting amiably with Lt. Uhura over lunch or inviting Chekov to play a game of chess in the Officer's lounge. Even Leonard himself had grown to enjoy relaxing with Spock and the Jim after shift.

But, he had gradually come to realize, there was one crewmember who, it appeared, Spock had not deigned to include in his new circle of friends. He mentally kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. There were subtle changes in Christine after Spock made his return to the Enterprise. She had become quieter, more introspective, her off duty time spent in the Medical lab or in her quarters. The few times he'd questioned her about it she'd put him off with one excuse or another: a headache, journals to read, research work that took up her free time. Perhaps if he hadn't been so caught up in the euphoria of being back on the ship among his friends he would have seen it sooner.

Now the pieces of the puzzle were coming together and he didn't like the picture they were forming. That blasted Vulcan! He had never understood how a warm, sweet, open woman like Chris Chapel had fallen in love with the cold, pigheaded First Officer of the Enterprise in the first place. She would have been better off falling in love with a bucket of bolts. But somehow, despite her feelings they'd managed to forge an excellent working relationship and in the last year of the mission they had even appeared to develop a close friendship

So why was he making such an effort to keep her at a distance now? Though McCoy bristled at the thought of using the phrase it was "highly illogical" behavior, even for a Vulcan. In the last few months he had come to consider Spock a friend, and if he were being honest, one of his best friends. But Christine was like a daughter to him, and he wasn't going to stand for her being treated so dismissively.

"Everything okay, Len?" Christine looked up from the chartpad on the desk in the outer office and flashed a brilliant smile.

"I'm fine, Chris."

"You don't sound fine," she said rising, her brow furrowed with concern.

"It's nothing, Chris." He smiled and patted her softly on the upper arm. "You know I'm so proud of you, finishing a five year medical program in 2 years, top of your class…I guess what I'm trying to say is you're a real asset to this ship and I'm really pleased to have you back aboard."

"Yeah," she responded, but her voice had a strangely anxious tone and she was chewing her lower lip, a nervous tic he remembered from their previous mission. "About that… I've been offered a position in Emergency Ops at Fleet in San Francisco."

"You're leaving?"

"I'll be leaving when we put into Spacedock next month for repairs."

"I don't understand. I thought you were happy here."

"It's a great career opportunity for me, Len," she said but her cheery smile slowly transformed to a disappointed frown. "Could you at least pretend to be happy for me?"

"I'm sorry Chris, it's kind of a shock. You just came back."

"I know, but I really feel that Ops would be a better fit for me. I'll miss you but I need to do this."

McCoy nodded his understanding. "Just know that anytime you want to come back…" he felt his throat tighten, "you're always welcome here, Chris."

"I know, Len," she said as her eyes grew misty, and McCoy wrapped her in a warm embrace.

"I'll be in my office finishing up some files if you need anything," she said as her hand brushed a tear from cheek.

McCoy watched her retreat into her office, the door making a soft swooshing sound as it closed behind her.

Career move my Georgia ass! A woman as bright as Christine would certainly have noticed how the Spock had been shuffling her aside, would have felt the sting of his disrespect. Now she was leaving the ship; Spock had gone too far.

He punched the code for the Bridge into the comm.

"Kirk here."

"Jim, I need to see you in my office."

"Is everything okay, Bones?" Kirk asked, hearing the agitation in his friend's voice.

"No, Jim, no it's not," McCoy responded. "We need to talk."

"I'm expecting Spock on the bridge momentarily. I'll be down there as soon as he takes over."

As Kirk shut off the comm just as Spock exited the turbolift.

"Everything okay with the landing party, Mister Spock?" Kirk asked, still puzzling over the cryptic conversation with McCoy.

Spock raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Everything was exactly as we had expected. Had you foreseen some complication of which I was unaware?"

"No." Kirk shook his head. "Bones needs to see me down in Sickbay, you have the con."

Spock nodded tightly.

Kirk's eyes drifted to the padd Spock's hand. As if sensing his friend's thoughts Spock held the padd out toward him.

"If you could review this when you have a moment, Jim?"

"Of course, Spock." Kirk replied, as he accepted the proffered device and entered the turbo lift.

"Sickbay," he said, mulling over Spock's use of his first name on the Bridge. While it was true that Spock had in Bone's words, "lightened up" considerably since the encounter with V'ger, the informal tone was an uncharacteristic break in protocol.

McCoy Kirk into his private office; a bottle of Jack Daniels and two glasses waited on the desk. Numbly he set down the padd Spock had given him and poured himself a rather generous drink, considering he was still on duty, as he struggled to assimilate what he'd just read.

"You look like you just lost your best friend, Jim."

"Apparently, I am." He sunk back in the chair, and waved off Bones puzzled frown.

"So what's the problem, Bones?" he asked as McCoy poured himself of drink as well.

"It's your dammed Vulcan First Officer," McCoy spat out, "he's treated Christine so badly she's transferring off the ship."

"Chapel? Transferring off the ship?" Kirk downed the rest of the bourbon in his glass and refilled it. "Did she say why?"

"She said it was a 'career move', but my gut tells me it's Spock."

"Spock? What does Spock have to do with her leaving the ship?"

"He's systematically disrespected her as a doctor, Jim. I checked it out on the computer logs. He's removed her from every single landing party he's been on in the past three months with absolutely no explanation. He's reassigned all of her Science lab shifts, again for no apparent reason. Then last month when he came in for his reinstatement physical he insisted that I do it instead of Chris. He's undermining her position on this ship. Can you blame her for wanting to leave? Damn it Jim, Chapel's a fine doctor, one of the best I've ever worked with. She doesn't deserve this, and I'm not gonna let him get away with it."

Kirk took another drink and as he searched for some explanation for his friend's behavior, his attention returned to the padd on the desk.

"Doctor." Kirk jumped at the familiar, yet at the same time strangely unfamiliar voice coming from the comm unit on the McCoy's desk. "It would appear that I have contracted some sort of… fever while down on the planet." It was Spock's voice Kirk realized, but different, softer, warmer, deeper. "I believe that the only cure for my current condition would be to find you in my bed at sixteen hundred hours appropriately unattired."

Kirk's felt his jaw drop and McCoy's blue eyes widened and his grin reminded him of the proverbial Cheshire cat as he gleefully rocked back on his heels.

"Aren't y'all at least gonna to buy me a drink first, Commander?" McCoy replied seductively in his best Scarlet O'Hara voice.

For a few moments there was dead silence on the comm, followed by a deep sigh.

"Well it would appear that the felinoid quadruped has been vacated from the containment apparatus."

"You mean the cat is out of the bag?" McCoy replied.

"I believe that is what I said, Doctor," the Spock replied. "And of course the Captain is with you."

"Present." Kirk laughed raucously.

"Might I enquire as to what the two of you are doing in Doctor Chapel's office?" Spock asked with a stiff formality only a Vulcan could muster in such circumstances.

"We aren't in Christine's office," McCoy responded unable to suppress his delight at Spock's predicament. "I've been having a problem with Chris's coms coming to my terminal. I tried to get you to come down and look at it but you told me to call Scotty."

"I shall join you in 3.71 minutes."

Three point seven one minutes later the flustered Vulcan appeared at McCoy's office door.

"So-" Kirk grinned broadly as McCoy engaged the privacy screen, "-you and Chapel Spock?

Spock unceremoniously dropped into the chair next to Kirk without responding. McCoy produced a third glass and poured Spock a stiff drink. To Kirk and McCoy's astonishment he bolted down the entire glass then held out the empty tumbler for a refill.

"So, this thing with Chapel, how long has this been going on?" Kirk continued.

"Captain," Spock responded coolly, "Doctor Chapel and I are both adults. I do not directly supervise her in any capacity nor has she interacted with me in any medical capacity. We have been most cautious to assure that our relationship violated no Starfleet regulations."

McCoy muttered something unintelligible as he poured another drink. "So all this taking Chris off the landing parties, reassigning her lab work was just so you two could…um…you know…knock boots."

"Crudely put, Doctor, but essentially accurate."

"But can you actually… well, you know…outside of the seven year thing…is that even possible?"

"Indeed. The seven year cycle can be broken… with sufficient…motivation, and I find Doctor Chapel extraordinarily…motivating."

"But why the secrecy Spock why did the two of you feel the need to hide the relationship?" Kirk asked.

"It is… complicated," he responded "When I approached Christine about establishing a relationship-"

"You approached her?" McCoy interrupted his tone incredulous.

"Yes Doctor, I approached her," he answered, "now if I might continue. When I approached her about my desire to establish a relationship, she was initially disinclined to accommodate that desire."

"She turned you down?" Kirk asked unable to contain his amazement.

"Yes, at first," Spock responded. "I was, of course, perplexed by her reaction. In the past she had expressed a certain degree of…" he stared briefly into his glass as if the word he was searching for might be floating in the amber liquid, "devotion… to me, and logically, she should have been receptive to the physical consummation of those feelings. She expressed concerns about how the relationship would be perceived by the rest of the crew. She believed becoming the object of ship's gossip could undermine her position as a physician."

"So wait," McCoy interrupted, "You were pursuing Christine and she blew you off?"

"Yes, Doctor. I am perfectly aware of the irony of the situation. I believed her true concerns were borne of my past behavior toward her, she did not trust the sincerity or depth of my feelings for her."

"Yes," Spock said with a sigh inferring their unspoken question, "I have feelings for her." He shook his head and sighed again. "I am beginning to appreciate Christine's apprehension about making our relationship public.

"I endeavored to regain her trust and with persistence on my part, I was able to demonstrate to her the constancy of my affection and my desire to provide not only for her material needs, but her physical and emotional needs as well."

"But if you two are together, why is Chris leaving the ship?" McCoy asked.

Kirk reached out and laid his hand on the padd in front of him the realization dawned. "You're both leaving the ship,"- Kirk said with sudden understanding- "together."

"Together? So the two of you are getting hitched?" McCoy asked, refilling his glass.

"Not immediatelyI would prefer to marry before we leave the ship, but Christine wishes to 'take things slowly', and yes Doctor I am able to perceive the irony in that as well. Christine has accepted a planetside posting to Star Fleet Emergency Operations and I will be teaching graduate students at the Academy."

"But, Spock," Jim protested, "the Enterprise is your home."

"Yes Jim, it has been my home. I will miss it and more I will miss both of you. But this..." he took a sip of the drink and shook his head. "What I have with Christine, it is unfathomable." Spock covered Kirk's hand with his own, sensing the younger man's flurry of emotions at their parting.

"I am and always shall be your friend," he stated simply. Kirk raised his eyes to meet Spock's and a moment of perfect understanding passed between them. "I am sorry that I was not able to share this with you," he said, shifting his glance to include McCoy in his apology.

Spock finished the last of his drink before rising from the chair. "I must find Christine and inform her that you are aware of our relationship. She will, no doubt be displeased." A strange look crossed his face. "This nearly constant state of….," he paused and cleared his throat anxiously, "'motivation', this is customary in human males?"

McCoy nearly choked on the swallow of bourbon he'd taken.

"Afraid so," Kirk replied with a laugh.

"But it will become less intrusive in time?"

Kirk shook his head, "I wouldn't count on it."

"Fascinating," he responded turning toward the door. "It is remarkable that your people were able to accomplish anything at all."

Spock checked Christine's office but found it empty and headed for the turbolift.

Mixed emotions. It was a term he'd heard before but never truly understood until this moment. He felt a degree of sorrow in leaving the first place he had ever felt a genuine sense of home and the prospect of parting with the two men he considered his best friends. Yet at the same time he felt a sense of joyful anticipation for the new home and life he would build with Christine. He allowed himself a small smile at that thought as he entered the code for Christine's deck into the turbolift panel.

Perhaps, he considered, experiencing a pleasant rush of desire, it would be prudent to wait until morning to inform her of the recent turn of events. Yes, he decided, that discussion could most certainly wait until morning.