"Hey - want to go to the park again? And transform? If you want."

"Very well," said Spock, transforming on the spot, to Jim's delight. Jim let him out of the dorm, and they walked quietly to the place he usually found Spock, and sat down with him. Now that he knew who the cat really was, he felt a little awkward and nervous about petting him, especially considering how he felt about him. But, the Vulcan obviously loved it. So Jim reached out, and massaged him with his usual firm, even touch. Spock rapidly melted and purred. Jim continued much longer than he usually did, thinking quietly. Though Spock found his "verbal commentary engaging," he couldn't quite bring himself to talk to him like he used to.

When Jim got up, Spock followed him without changing form. A woman he didn't recognize came up to them. "Oh my god, what is that?" she asked Jim.

"He's mine," said Jim without thinking. "You like him?"

"He's awesome," she said, reaching down to pet him.

Spock shrank back instinctively, distracted by what Jim had said. It had caused a feeling in his chest that was not unpleasant. As a feline, his instincts were highly territorial, and he liked being associated with Kirk.

"Sorry, he's a little shy," Jim apologized.

"It's all right," said the woman, drawing back.

They made more "small talk," to the point where Spock decided he had better things to do. He started to leave. "Hey Sp – er, well, looks like my cat's getting impatient," Jim said. "Wanna meet up later?"

The woman agreed, and they made arrangements. Finally Jim followed Spock out of the park. "Sorry about that," said Jim.

Spock, of course, could make no reply, so he kept walking, heading for Jim's dorm. Jim let him in, and Spock transformed back into a Vulcan. "I must return to my studies," said Spock, finding nothing else to say. He felt strangely displeased with Jim.

"Hey, you don't have to leave just yet," he said, sounding genuinely sorry.

"You have to meet that female soon. I would not want to delay you," Spock said in a clipped tone.

"Well, come back anytime, in either form," Jim said with a tight smile.

"Very well," said Spock, then he left. He did not wish for Jim to meet with the female, yet, unless they were "going steady," as McCoy had put it, he had no right to ask him not to. He had never attempted to approach anyone in a romantic manner before, and the doctor seemed reluctant to offer more details. He would have to conduct research.

Spock ended up going to a gay bar to observe how men approached other men. It was logical to conclude it might be different from how men and women approached each other, and could explain his difficulties with Jim. However, a few hours of observation while consuming a questionable Terran drink did not yield any definite results. Indeed, many of the ways these men approached each other were not consistent with the manner in which he preferred to conduct himself.

He picked up his drink again, deciding to finish it and leave. However, he noticed it tasted a little different this time. His brows pulled together contemplatively. Very curious. He saw a couple men watching him, so he raised an eyebrow at them and walked out the door.

He'd barely exited when he realized something was very wrong. His sense of balance was off; his inner clock failed; and the mere act of putting one foot in front of the other became excessively challenging. He felt hands grab him from behind. "Need help there, mister?" one jeered.

Spock turned his head just enough to see the men who'd been watching him earlier. "I seem…to…"

"We're not gonna let you go home alone," the other laughed meanly, his meaning clear.

Normally, Spock did not panic, but whatever they'd spiked his drink with loosened his controls considerably. He jerked himself out of their grip and sprinted a few drunken steps around the corner, using the last of his focus to transform and dive behind a trash can. The world spun oddly as he collapsed.

"Hey, where'd he go?!" One asked the other.

They looked around, but didn't realize that the large cat was the man they were searching for. "There goes our fun. He looked like such a good fuck."

Spock, fearful that he would not be able to maintain his form in his drugged state, ran away in a panic, despite his constant stumbling. He willed himself with all his might to stay a cat, he must, he must. Instinctively he headed for Jim's dorm instead of his own. He yowled in distress and scratched blindly at the door, barely able to stand.

Presently, it opened to reveal a half-dressed Jim. When he saw Spock's shaking form, the smile fell from his face. "Hey, uh… buddy, what's wrong?"

Spock pressed up against his legs, shivering.

"Come inside the bathroom," Jim whispered. "You can transform in there, and we'll talk."

Spock hardly registered the words, he was in such a state. He did notice Jim start to move, and he instinctively pressed against his leg and moved with him, until Jim had closed the bathroom door behind them.

"You can transform. You're safe," Jim said.

Spock tried, and found he couldn't. His mind was locked down tight in fear. He shook his head.

"You can't?" Jim said. "Nod yes if so."

Spock nodded, and resumed shaking. Jim sat down, and Spock crawled into his lap, making a distressed noise.

"Hey, it's going to be okay. We'll figure it out, Spock," Jim reassured him, petting him hesitantly. Spock relaxed a little under his hands, so he continued, a little more confidently. "I've got to let her know what's happening. I'll just tell her something happened to you and we'll have to meet up again another night."

Jim started to get up, but Spock dug his claws in reflexively. "Hey, ow," Jim said, wincing. "Ok, I'll pick you up, but you're heavy." Jim heaved him up in his arms, and Spock curled tightly into his chest, still shaking in terror. He distantly listened as he talked to the woman and heard the door close as she left.

"What am I going to do with you?" wondered Jim worriedly. Should he call a vet? Or would McCoy be better? He couldn't decide. Clearly, something very bad had happened to make Spock act this way.

McCoy stumbled in a minute later, interrupting his debate. "What the hell, Jim, did your dick finally fall – what the hell?" the doctor said as he spotted Jim on the couch with a giant, trembling black cat curled in his lap.

"Something's wrong with him. Can you look him over?"

"I'm a doctor, not a veterinarian!" McCoy protested predictably.

"Yeah, well. Just try, please?" asked Jim, wondering if he should reveal Spock's true identity. Spock clearly didn't want him to, but he might really need the help.

"Fine, kid," McCoy grumbled without further protest. Jim looked more worried than he'd ever seen him. All over a goddam cat. He took out his tricorder and attempted to discern what the readings meant. "Well, looks like he might have been drugged or something. Kinda reminds me of a date rape drug, though why someone would give it to a cat – maybe as an experiment?"

Jim's eyes grew wide and horrified, as he imagined the awful things that had probably happened to Spock. No wonder he was terrified. "What can we do?"

"Like I said, I'm not a vet, I have no idea how it'll affect him. But, if he were human, I'd say just wait it out. It'll wear off. I agree it's not a nice thing to do to an animal, Jim, but I've never seen you this upset. What's going on?"

"Can he stay here until he gets better?" Jim asked, dodging the question.

McCoy looked at the large feline doubtfully. "Can't you just give him to a shelter? They'll take good care of him."

"Please," said Jim. "I won't even bring anyone home while he's here."

McCoy stared at Jim in disbelief. He must really want this if he was offering that. "All right. But he better not get cat hair all over the goddam place."

"Thanks Bones," Jim said fervently. He didn't fancy sleeping on the trashed couch, so, despite feeling a little awkward about it, he carried Spock to his bed and settled down next to him. Spock crawled on top of him and buried his face in his chest, still shaking hard. Jim massaged him soothingly as he pulled the covers over them. Maybe when the drug wore off, Spock would be able to change back.

After it seemed like he would never sleep, he finally did. When he woke up, Spock was sound asleep on his chest, still a cat. Jim was reluctant to move him. Luckily, it was Sunday, so he didn't have to.

Jim didn't know how much time had passed when McCoy pounded on the door. "Jesus, Jim, you still alive in there?" McCoy actually sounded worried.

"Yeah, I just didn't want to wake him up," said Jim.

That cat again. "He doing all right?"

"Yeah, he seems to be sleeping comfortably, and he's not shaking anymore," said Jim.

"Good. I still think he should go to a shelter," McCoy responded.

"Not happening, Bones," said Jim.

Jim really was giving up sex for this cat. It was really unbelievable. "Suit yourself. Just make sure he stays out of my stuff."

"Won't be a problem," Jim said confidently.

Finally, Spock woke up, though his eyes betrayed pain. Jim imagined it must be from some kind of hangover; he hated to think of what other things might be causing him pain. "Hey. Can you change back yet?" It was a little awkward having Spock here on his chest, now that he seemed calm. But Spock did not seem to want to move, so he let him be. It wasn't as if he didn't like it, quite the opposite.

Spock shook his head a little, wincing at the movement.

"Hey, I've got to get up and, uh, attend to humanly needs," said Jim.

Spock obligingly shifted off of him, and curled up underneath the covers. Jim got up and spent time in the bathroom, then grabbed breakfast from the kitchen. After a long debate, he got water and oatmeal for Spock. Seemed safe enough.

Spock gratefully drank the water, and eyed the oatmeal rather dubiously, but ate it anyway. Though Jim was worried about the fact that Spock couldn't transform, he was relieved to see that he seemed ok otherwise. Maybe he just needed a little more time.

Spock did not seem to want to leave Jim's bed, so Jim left him there, saying to find him if he needed anything. He left to do some of his homework in the living room.

Spock lay curled completely under the covers, feeling strangely frozen, as if this was the only safe place to be. It was completely illogical, but he could not seem to reason with his frightened feline brain that held him in place. The loss of control yesterday had terrified him, just as much, if not more, than what those men had threatened to do.

When Jim returned to check on him awhile later, Spock still hadn't moved. "Spock? You all right?" Jim asked, but Spock made no indication that he'd heard. Worried, Jim slid the covers off him. Spock glanced at him, but otherwise, stayed frozen.

"Hey. You're really worrying me. Is it okay if I tell McCoy who you really are?" Jim asked.

Spock lifted his head and stared at Jim, considering his words. He did not relish the thought of anyone else knowing his secret, yet, it seemed likely he would need assistance if he were to attend classes anytime soon.

"I promise he won't tell anyone," Jim added.

Spock nodded and set his head down between his paws.

Jim rejoined McCoy out in the living room, debating how break the news. When he'd imagined this scenario yesterday, it had been considerably more fun, and less worrisome. "Hey, uh, Bones," Jim started.

"Whatdya want? I'm busy," McCoy grumped. "It's not that cat again, is it?"

"Actually it is," Jim said.

"Well, spit it out. I haven't got all day," McCoy pointed out.

"He's not a cat. He's Spock," Jim said, deciding to be blunt.

"Pull the other one, it plays Dixie. I don't have time for this shit," Bones complained.

"No, it is Spock, and I'm worried about him. I can prove it," Jim insisted.

Bones looked at him properly for the first time. Ok, while Jim's story was ludicrous, it did make everything make perfect sense. Whatever that cat was, Jim genuinely believed it was Spock. "Ok, I'll bite. How can you prove it?"

"Run a DNA scan," Jim suggested.

McCoy got up, bringing his tricorder with him. "All right, Jim, but if this is one of your stupid pranks – "

"It isn't," Jim assured him.

McCoy waved the tricorder over Spock, frowning, then examined the results. "Good god, Jim. He has Vulcan DNA. I would never have believed it if I hadn't just seen it myself." They stared at each other, then Bones met Spock's gaze awkwardly. "Well, Spock. Looks like you'll be staying with us until you – well, until you're normal again. Have any idea how this happened?" he asked Jim.

Jim explained to him what he knew. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Jim. Clearly he's suffered some kind of trauma. I suspect his shapeshifting problem is psychological, though of course, we have nothing scientific to base that on. We'll just let him hang out here until he gets over the shock of what happened."

Spock spent the next few days holed up in Jim's room before Jim was finally able to coax him outside. "Why don't you lead me to where it happened?" He suggested. "If you're comfortable."

Spock walked on. Jim wasn't sure if he had agreed until he turned away from the park and headed into town. Finally, he stopped.

"A gay bar?" Jim questioned. Spock just pressed himself harder into Jim's leg, struggling to keep his primal feline fear instincts under control.

"Hey, let's go somewhere more inconspicuous," Jim said. He headed for the very alley that Spock had transformed in. "Let's stake out here for a bit. If you see who did this to you, swat me, okay?"

Spock gave a sharp nod, and they waited. And waited. Jim was about to call it quits when he felt Spock's paw make contact with his leg. He wasn't able to acknowledge it, though, because two men immediately caught sight of him.

"Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?" One asked, looking at him appraisingly.

"Why don't we buy you a drink?" The other suggested.

"No thanks. I was just looking for a guy that comes here sometimes. He's Vulcan, has black hair, skinny." Jim unconsciously clenched his fists at his sides. He didn't like the vibe he got from them.

They exchanged glances, then leapt at Jim. Spock stood paralyzed in fear as Jim attempted to defend himself. One landed a solid punch on Jim's face. Before he could think about it, Spock leaped into action, instinctively shifting into the form best suited to survive the encounter: his Vulcan one.

Spock made short work of them, and turned to Jim, unable to control the shaking in his hands. "Hey, we beat them, everything's fine now," Jim soothed, taking his hands in his.

"Yes," Spock gasped out.

"We should contact the authorities. File charges," Jim said.

"Affirmative." Spock took a few deeps breathes, attempting to center himself. "We must also get you to Dr. McCoy."

"Oh yes, the bruise," Jim said with a dismissive air. "That can wait. I'm more concerned about you." He massaged Spock's knuckles with his thumb. "Are you all right?"

"I will be. I must meditate," Spock stated.

"We should talk to the authorities first," Jim reminded him reluctantly. Once that was taken care of, they headed back to Jim's apartment to tend to his injury. Dr. McCoy was nowhere to be seen, so Spock, with still shaking hands, insisted on tending to it himself. Then he shut himself away in Jim's room to meditate. Jim attempted to do homework, but found it difficult to concentrate. When they'd talked to the police, Spock had given the bare facts of what had happened. Jim couldn't seem to shake the memory from his mind.

A few hours passed, and it was time for Jim to go to bed. He gently knocked on his door. "Hey Spock, is it okay for me to come in?"

"Affirmative."

Jim entered slowly. Spock sat crosslegged on his bed, appearing much more composed. "Hey, you're looking better."

"Indeed. Thank you for your assistance."

Spock did not appear to have any intentions of moving. Jim was unwilling to make him leave when he was still in a fragile state. "Well. You can take the bed, I'll take the couch," Jim decided. It was hardly appealing, but he'd slept in worse places.

"The couch is not an optimal sleeping surface," Spock stated reasonably. "We have shared this bed previously. I do not see why we cannot continue the arrangement."

It had been easy to hide his attraction when Spock was a cat. Now that he was a man, it would be very difficult. "Don't worry about it, Spock."

"Vulcans need less sleep than humans. I will take the couch instead," Spock insisted.

"No way," Jim said firmly.

"Then we are at an impasse, unless we share the bed," Spock pointed out. He peered at Jim. He was showing the signs of nervousness that McCoy had said were signs of attraction. "I do not understand your resistance. I was under the impression you would find it a pleasurable experience." Fresh from meditation and armed with logic, he finally felt bold enough to approach the subject.

"What?" Jim said, frozen.

"I have noted that you are nervous around me. I have been informed this is consistent with behavior that indicates attraction."

Jim struggled to answer.

"Perhaps it would ease your mind to know that you are not alone in your attraction."

"You're-? Really? But you went to a gay bar."

"I went to the gay bar to figure out how to approach you by observing the techniques of other men. However, after my initial study, I would prefer not to duplicate them."

"Well," Jim said with a slow smile. "Where does this leave us?"

"It seems prudent to start with a resolution of our sleeping arrangements."

"All right," Jim said. He approached the bed and sat down next to Spock. "Let's try it."

Once they settled who would put what where, Jim relaxed. He still didn't quite feel he could fall asleep yet, but he was getting there.

"Jim. I appreciate all you have done for me in the past few days," Spock said softly.

"No problem, Spock," Jim assured him. He was silent a minute. "It can't have been easy, carrying this secret all by yourself for so long."

"I am used to standing apart from society," Spock said, his tone dismissive.

"Well. You don't have to anymore," Jim assured him.

Spock simply shifted closer in response.