Title: It Was Pleasant
Author: Ster Julie
Codes: AOS; Mc, S; written for Spiced Peaches
Rating: PG
—ooOoo—
Chapter 1— I Kissed
a Boy
Summary: McCoy has to perform rescue breathing on a senior cadet, the very Vulcan
senior cadet.
A/N: Thanks to WebMD for the info on treatment of near drowning victims.
Please read the PSA at the end. Someone you love may need you to know
this information!
.
To Leonard McCoy nothing
beat the freedom of gliding across the water, the feel of being nearly weightless, or the quiet sounds the water made as he
stroked lap after lap.
McCoy agreed with the
adage, Swimming is the perfect exercise.
Ol’ Jim Kirk could have his boxing, his weights and his jogging. Exercise
was only good if it was done, and swimming was McCoy’s exercise of choice.
McCoy got out of the
pool and was heading to the lockers when a ruckus began at the other end of the pool.
Four cadets were grappling with that Vulcan cadet. He was putting up a
valiant fight, but McCoy would put good money on the other four guys. He expected
a big splash any minute.
McCoy laughed at the
loud, “NO!” emanating from the Vulcan as he arced over the side of the pool and hit the water on the deep end. The doctor expected the Vulcan to rocket out of the water spitting mad.
Instead, the water rocked
itself back to calmness and still the Vulcan sat on the bottom of the pool, a dark, motionless figure.
McCoy studied the
form, willing him to move. How many minutes had passed? How long could a Vulcan hold his breath?
McCoy rattled off
Vulcan physiology in his head, the effect of chemically treated water on Vulcan lungs which had evolved in an arid climate…
“Dammit,”
McCoy cursed. He flung his towel aside and yelled, “Call for help!”
as he made a running leap into the pool. He kicked and scissored his legs to
force himself down, down until he felt the immobile form.
McCoy grabbed the Vulcan
around the waist and held him against his side, leaving himself free to kick and stroke the way back to the surface quickly.
McCoy’s lungs were
burning by the time he had broken the surface with his heavy load. /“The Vulcan body is more dense, therefore less buoyant,”/ McCoy remembered from class. /No wonder he sank like a stone!/ He checked the Vulcan and saw he wasn’t breathing.
/Oh, God!/ McCoy thought. /Brain
damage on a Vulcan begins at four minutes without oxygen!/ He grabbed the
Vulcan from behind and began the inward and upward thrusts of the ancient Heimlich Maneuver, all the while kicking to the
pool’s edge.
“C’mon,
c’mon, BREATHE!” McCoy ordered. He spared a panicked look around
the pool.
No one.
“Those goddamn
sons of bitches!” he cursed. He turned back to his patient who was looking
whiter and whiter.
“It’s just
you and me,” McCoy told him. “I can’t do this alone. You have to help me.”
McCoy maneuvered them
to a side ladder. By sheer force of will he got the unconscious Vulcan
out of the water and onto the deck. Kneeling at the Vulcan’s head, McCoy
pushed on his back and pulled his arms.
McCoy checked again. Still no breathing. He had been successful
and in getting some water out of the Vulcan’s lungs, so McCoy flipped his patient over and began rescue breathing.
McCoy didn’t want
to think about the Vulcan’s pallor or the feel of the cold, stiff lips beneath his own.
/Position the head. Pinch the nose.
Seal the lips. Blow. Turn
my head. Breathe. Seal. Blow. Breathe. Seal. Blow. Breathe. Seal. Blow. Breathe. Seal. Blow. C’mon, dammit! BREATHE!/
The Vulcan began to stir. He turned his head and started to cough and gasp.
McCoy grabbed his patient’s shoulder and turned him on his side, beating out a percussive pattern on the Vulcan’s
back to help him expel more water.
The Vulcan crawled away
from the edge of the pool and over to a nearby bench. He hauled his torso over
it, draping so that the planet’s gravity could help pull even more water out.
McCoy ticked off a list
in his head of all the things the Vulcan would need immediately. /He needs bronchodilators, steroids, antibiotics so he doesn’t develop pneumonia, but which ones? He also needs dry clothes to prevent hypothermia—nah, not cold enough in here. Wonder about brain damage? His oxygen was cut off for more
than four minutes…/
The Vulcan began
another round of coughing.
“You’re going
to be okay, sir,” McCoy said as he percussed the Vulcan’s back again. /Gotta dry out these lungs.../ He looked
around for inspiration. His eyes fell on the perfect solution.
“Can you stand?”
McCoy asked. “You need to get out of those wet clothes and into someplace
warm and dry.”
McCoy half supported,
half dragged the Vulcan to the sauna just inside the nearby lockers. He stripped
them both of their sodden clothes, grabbed some towels and settled the Vulcan inside the warm room. He raised the temperature and lowered the humidity as far as the safety features would allow.
McCoy saw bruises forming
on the Vulcan’s torso. The doctor mentally kicked himself for using the
Heimlich as designed for humans and not the modified maneuver. He hoped he hadn’t
damaged the Vulcan’s heart!
The Vulcan stretched
himself out face-down on the bench. His breathing had improved and his coughing
lessened. McCoy wished he had a scanner to see if that was good or
bad.
“Can you tell me
your name, sir?” he asked as he began to assess his patient. McCoy knew
that his patient was the famous Vulcan cadet named Spock, but he needed to know if he
knew his own name.
“Spock,”
came the breathy answer.
“What day of the
week is it?”
“Tuesday.”
“Can you open your
eyes? Good. How many fingers am
I holding up?”
Spock peered at McCoy’s
hand in front of his face.
“Three.”
“Very good. Do you know my name?”
Spock peered again at
the doctor. “McCoy,” he answered with a gasp, “Leonard, M.D.,
first year cadet.”
“Yup, I’m,
a plebe.”
“My hero.”
McCoy chuckled at that
last answer. “Very kind of you, sir.
Now, I need to call for some help. The comm panel is just outside the
door. I’ll be right back.”
McCoy exited the sauna,
hit the intercom button and barked, “Medical emergency, near drowning, indoor pool.
It’s our Vulcan cadet. I’m drying him out in the sauna. McCoy out.”
McCoy took a deep breath
of cool air before re-entering the super-heated sauna. He could feel the moisture
being sucked right out of his pores. He only hoped the arid heat was doing as
good a job on Spock as it was doing on him!
Spock began to cough
violently. Soon there was a small puddle on the synth-wood floor. McCoy covered it with a towel and smiled encouragingly.
“Good job, sir.” McCoy studied the weak Vulcan a moment. “If
you don’t mind me asking, sir, why did those cadets throw you into the pool?”
“Reported…
them… for cheating…” Spock gasped. Expelled.”
“Stupid asses,”
McCoy groused. “Sir, when you are ready to press charges against them,
I’ll be glad to give my testimony.”
“Charges?”
Spock breathed.
“Well, attempted
murder for one, of course,” the doctor said, “and general stupidity for another.”
“Oh.” Spock paused a moment. “Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“Did I waken to
you kissing me?”
McCoy was taken aback
by that question. He tried to cover with sarcasm.
“Uh, who do you think you are, Sleeping Beauty or something?”
Then McCoy sobered. “Look, I had to perform rescue breathing on
you until you could breathe on your own,” he answered.
“Oh.”
“Disappointed?”
“Never.”
“Oh.” McCoy moved to the door. “Where
the hell are the medics?”
“It was pleasant.”
McCoy
head whipped back. “What?” he breathed as he returned to his patient’s
side.
“You were so warm
and I was so cold,” Spock continued. “I could sense your physical
warmth as well as your warm thoughts, your genuine care for me and your fear for my life.” Spock trailed his hand up McCoy’s bare chest. “So
warm,” he purred.
“I didn’t
know that Vulcans swung that way,” McCoy murmured.
Spock thought a moment
as he processed the meaning of that idiom. “This Vulcan ‘swings’
both ways,” he admitted. “I could demonstrate…”
Spock pulled McCoy’s
head closer and met his lips in a gentle kiss.
“Thank you for
saving my life,” he said sincerely.
McCoy grinned his crooked
grin, his eyes twinkled, and he replied, “You are very welcome.”
The door to the sauna
burst in and medical personnel rushed to Spock’s side. McCoy went back
into professional mode and presented Spock’s case. “Who are you?”
the rescue squad leader barked.
McCoy snapped to. “Dr. Leonard McCoy, Ma’am, first year cadet. May I borrow your scanner?”
The leader yielded the instrument to the professional. McCoy ran it over Spock.
“Damn,” he
swore, “significant amount of water in both lungs still. He’ll need
O2 and whatever pulmonary meds his body can tolerate. I hope there’s a
list in his charts.”
“I’m sure
there is, Doc,” she answered. She pointed to the towel McCoy wore. “You got other clothes?”
McCoy dropped his eyes
and groaned. “Let me get my gear and I’ll go with you.”
By the time the med team
was loading up Spock for a trip to the Infirmary, McCoy had emerged, fastening his jacket as he ran.
Spock touched McCoy’s
sleeve. “Was I too forward?” he asked quietly as the air car made
the quick hop to the med center.
“Nah,” the
doctor replied, knowing what Spock meant by that question. “It was …
pleasant. Maybe someday I can give you some swimming lessons.”
END Part 1
Public Service Announcement on drowning, taken from WebMD
For a swimming rescue, approach the person
from behind while trying to calm the victim as you move closer. A panicked victim can pull you down.
· Grab a piece
of clothing or cup a hand or arm under the victim's chin and pull the person face up to shore while providing special care
to ensure a straight head-neck-back alignment especially if you think the person has spine injuries.
· The best option
would be to float the victim on a board while towing to shore.
First aid for a near-drowning victim
· The focus of
the first aid for a near-drowning victim in the water is to get oxygen into the lungs without aggravating any suspected neck
injury.
· If the victim's
breathing has stopped, begin mouth-to-mouth rescue breathing as soon as you safely can. This could mean starting the breathing
process in the water.
· Continue to
breathe for the person every five seconds while moving the victim to the shore.
· If the airway
is obstructed making breathing impossible, perform the Heimlich maneuver to clear it by hugging the victim from behind with
your arms around the victim's stomach and using the thumb side of a closed fist with your other hand on top of the fist to
pull in and up. Continue these thrusts until the airway is cleared.
· Chest compressions
in the water are difficult to do without a flat surface that does not give way and are reserved until such a surface is available.
· Once on shore,
reassess the victim's breathing and circulation (heartbeat and pulse). If there is breathing and circulation without suspected spine injury, place the person
in recovery position (lying on the stomach, arms extended at the shoulder level and bent, head on the side with the leg on
the same side drawn up at a right angle to the torso) to keep the airway clear and to allow the swallowed water to drain.
If there is no breathing, begin CPR. Continue CPR (mouth-to-mouth breathing and chest compressions) until help arrives or
the person revives.
· Keep the person
warm by removing wet clothing and covering with warm blankets to prevent hypothermia.
· Remain with
the recovering person until emergency medical personnel have arrived.
Medical
Treatment for Drowning
Someone with no symptoms after a near
drowning will be observed in the emergency department for six to 12 hours and should follow up with a doctor in one to three
days.
Someone with symptoms will be
treated as follows:
· CPR if not
breathing
· Oxygen for
people with low oxygenation
· Breathing tube
and machine if person is not breathing properly
· Heated intravenous
fluids to increase low blood pressure and to warm up the victim
· Stomach tube
to decrease abdominal distension that may cause vomiting
· Immobilization
of neck with a collar for suspected neck injury
· Invasive monitors
if person has cardiac or respiratory instability
· Bronchodilators
to decrease airway spasm
· Antibiotics
for lung infections
· Steroids to
decrease lung inflammation
· Treatment for
shock and hypothermia
· Hyperbaric
chamber for divers with decompression sickness (the bends)
· Supportive
care and counseling for the person and his or her family
Good advice to have. May you never have to use it!
—ooOoo—
Chapter 2—Swimming
Lessons
Summary: After Spock nearly drowned in the Academy pool, and McCoy saved him by using CPR, and the two discovered that the touching of lips was pleasant indeed, McCoy decides to take matters into his own
hands.
A/N:
This is how I learned to swim (except for kissing the teacher part!) To
this day I can only do the backstroke, but hey, that’s okay by me!
.
Leonard McCoy espied that Vulcan Senior
Cadet eating in the Mess Hall. He scribbled something on one of his padds, marched
over to the cadet as if he was on official business and smartly handed it over.
Spock looked curiously at the plebe, noticed
that it was his hero and dropped his eyes to the message.
You
Me
Pool
Tomorrow
0530
Swimming
lessons
“I hope I never have to do CPR on
you again,” McCoy whispered without preamble. “You’re going
to have to learn how to swim.”
Spock took another bite of his meetloaf*
and chewed on the meaning of the message.
“Will standard issue swim trunks
be sufficient?” he asked once he swallowed.
McCoy smiled as he imagined the Vulcan
in a Speedo. “Wear a warm-up suit over it,” he suggested. “I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.” McCoy
mock saluted. “See you in the morning.”
.
It was a long, sleepless night. McCoy fretted that he would sleep through his alarm, that he would say or do something
stupid to scare the Vulcan off, that Spock would end up being too dense to swim and sink like a stone again, and on and on.
For his part, Spock was concerned that
he would not be able to master his fear of the water, that he would shame himself before the doctor, and that he would not
be able to learn to swim and thus not complete his last remaining physical education requirement and fail to graduate. He could not, would not go back to Vulcan
if he failed to graduate.
Speculation
is pointless, Spock chided himself. Sleep
or meditate, but this worry is illogical and a waste of time!
.
McCoy dragged himself to the pool. He didn’t think he got more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep. He hoped Spock hadn’t arrived yet. He wanted to get
in a lap or ten before the lesson. The water usually could wake him up and energize
him. But it was not to be.
The doctor found Spock primly sitting on
a bench against the wall, a towel draped across his knees, and a forbidding look on his face as he stared down his archenemy,
the pool. McCoy sighed. This wasn’t
going to be easy.
“Good morning, sir,” McCoy
said, careful to lower his voice so that the loud echoing would not bother the Vulcan’s ears.
“Greetings, Doctor,”
Spock replied.
“Ready to conquer the beast?”
McCoy asked with a smile as he rubbed his hands together.
“‘Conquer the beast’?”
Spock repeated.
McCoy gestured to the pool.
“Ah,” Spock commented as he
understood the doctor’s colorful language. He thought off a way to postpone
the inevitable. “Perhaps if today you just demonstrate the basics, I could
observe … ”
“My God,” McCoy interrupted,
“you can be scared of the water!” He sat beside his reluctant
student and spoke gently to him. “I’ll be with you the whole time,
Spock,” McCoy assured. “We’ll stay along the edge so you can
hang on. C’mon. You can trust
me.”
Spock looked at McCoy and sensed
the doctor’s sincerity. He stood slowly and removed his sweatsuit. McCoy for his part kept his face calm and open, and his eyes riveted to Spock’s
face. He didn’t want to reveal his feelings (yet!) and scare the Vulcan
further with any romantic advances.
“Are the swimming costumes intended
to be so … brief?” Spock asked, forcing McCoy’s eyes south along Spock’s “glory trail.” The barest scrap of fabric clung tightly to Spock’s hips and ... other parts. McCoy cleared his throat at the sight. “I
feel so nude in these.”
“Uh,” McCoy began, “there
are longer styles, Spock. You can try one of those next time. Let’s get in the pool.”
McCoy dove in quickly to hide the sudden
bulge in his own trunks. Spock stood on the side and murmured, “You said
you’d stay with me.”
McCoy popped his head up and extended a
hand. “I’m right here, Spock.
Sit on the edge of the pool and put your legs in the water.”
“It’s too cold,”
Spock protested.
“It is not,” McCoy countered. “I raised the temp to 90˚ before I left the locker room.” He thrust his hand out again, indicating the edge of the pool.
Spock gingerly toed the water, found the
temperature cool but tolerable.
McCoy was hard pressed to hold his tongue
and kept his usually barbs to himself. Spock was still skittish as a colt, so
McCoy used his best bedside manners with him.
The doctor went over the basic mechanics
of swimming with the Vulcan, demonstrating how to kick, how to stroke, and how to turn one’s head to breathe.
“You’re gonna have to get wet
for the rest of the lesson,” McCoy said gently. “I can’t show
you how to float or tread water with you sitting on the side.” He held
his arms out to Spock, assuring him with his eyes. “This isn’t even
the deep end. See? I’m standing
up in the water. I’ll take care of you.” McCoy saw Spock gulp a couple of times before stretching his hands out like a toddler to his parent.
McCoy took the two outstretched hands and
gently pulled Spock down to stand in the water. It barely came to their waists. “That’s good, Spock,” the doctor murmured. “It’s not too cold, is it.” McCoy led the
reluctant Vulcan into slightly deeper water, no more than chest high. Spock tightened
his grip.
“Hey,” McCoy yelped. “I’m a doctor. Don’t break my hands. I need
those for surgery.”
Spock eased his death grip and mumbled,
“Sorry.”
McCoy brought him to the edge of the pool. “Grip
the side of the pool, Spock,” he instructed. “Put your legs out behind
you and kick.”
Spock did as the doctored ordered and soon
a mass of frothy water was churning behind him.
“Am I swimming?”
he asked.
The doctor threw his head back and laughed. “Well, right now you’re half right.
Let’s get your arms involved.”
McCoy stood the Vulcan up and turned
him toward the center of the pool. He demonstrated again how to breathe while
swimming by bending over until his face was in the water and turning his head to inhale.
Spock balked at putting his face in the
water. Before the Vulcan could get out of the pool, McCoy changed his tactics
and said, “Let’s try something else.” He took the Vulcan’s
hands and pulled him to the center of the pool. He released Spock’s hands
and extended his arms. “Lie across my arms, face up,” he said. “I promise I won’t drop you. I’m
going to show you how to float.”
Spock stretched out across McCoy’s
arms and steadied himself until one arm was under his shoulders and the other was under his hips. As he held the Vulcan, McCoy found he had to take a few calming breaths of his own.
“You can also swim in this position,”
McCoy continued, “and you don’t have to worry about putting your face in the water or changing how you breathe. It’s called the backstroke. You would kick as I showed you earlier, but you
would move your arms differently. Lift your left arm straight up and swing it
back and around in a circle. Lift your right arm and do the same thing. When I swim this way, I feel like I am pulling the water under me. Try it.”
Spock did as McCoy said, kicking
his legs and swinging his arms back and around. McCoy kept his arms under Spock
as he propelled himself across the shallow end but decreased the amount of support until the Vulcan swam the last three strokes
unassisted.
When he touched the wall, Spock stood up
and was surprised to see a smiling McCoy several feet away from him.
“You did it,” the doctor said
happily.
Spock was speechless. Either swimming was easier than he thought, or McCoy was an excellent teacher. /Most likely both,/ he thought.
“I’ll teach you the fine points
next time, like how to turn laps, how to use the ceiling as a point of reference so you don’t hit the wall and so on,”
McCoy added.
Spock nodded mutely, still mulling over
what he had accomplished with McCoy’s help in so short a time. He moved
closer to his instructor and placed a gentle hand on his cheek.
“I am so very grateful, Doctor, for
your help,” Spock said. He leaned close and properly thanked his teacher.
As McCoy’s body began to respond
to the kiss, he pulled back and muttered, “No, no, no. Bad idea. There’s no time for that. We still have to get ready
for Reveille and Morning Formation. We’d better
hit the showers.”
In response,
Spock smirked and launched himself across the pool and began to swim across to the ladder.
McCoy
shook his head. “Now you are just showing off,” as he raced his student
freestyle.
He decided
that he was going to like these lessons after all.
END
Part 2
*Shameful plug for my story “Basic
Training” found here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6106116/1/Basic_Training
—ooOoo—
Chapter 3—What’s With You?
Summary: Bones always runs from Spock, Kirk observes. What’s up with that? (Pre-Nero)
.
“Here comes that pointy-eared bastard.”
Kirk looked at his friend as he dragged him down another hallway.
“Bones, you say that every time you see him before you run the other way.
What’s up with you?”
Bones looked around nervously. “Uh,” he stammered, “the
two of us have … history.”
“History? The two of you?”
“Yeah, history. Now can we drop it?”
Kirk thought a moment as they turned another corner. “Isn’t
that the guy you tutored our first year? The one you saved from drowning?”
McCoy fumed, “I said drop it!”
Kirk wouldn’t let it drop. “The one you were so angry over
when he didn’t graduate top of his class because of some technicality on a Phys Ed class?”
“Technicality, my ass!” McCoy hissed. “The criteria
said ‘swim.’ So what if he did the backstroke instead of swimming
freestyle? He could swim. That should have been that, but no.”
“So why do you run away for him when you see him?” Kirk continued.
“Do you think he blames you? Bones?
Say something.”
McCoy lowered his voice further. “We had a … thing going on
back then, but then that she-wolf caught his eye and I … I can’t stand it.
Okay? Are you happy now?”
Kirk studied his friend. “Bones, this is not like you to give up
so easily,” Kirk observed. “Man up and go after what you want.” Kirk looked over his shoulder. He could
still see the Vulcan in his charcoal-colored instructor’s uniform. “Except
I don’t know what you see in him. Women are so … so …”
“Yeah, and everything that women are he’s not. He was just what I needed after Jocelyn. But now, now he’s
happy with that snooty cadet.”
“Happy? A Vulcan?”
“Whatever. I had my chance.
He’s obviously over me.”
“But you’re not over him.”
“Shut up and let’s get to the assembly before were marked tardy—again.”
END Part 3
—ooOoo—
Chapter 4—Haven
Summary: Spock needs a safe place to fall
apart after Nero.
.
The doctor found Spock literally staring into space at one of the ports on the Sickbay deck.
McCoy was exhausted from dealing with all of the injured crewmembers, with the rescued Vulcans, and with all of the
extra paperwork he had to do after Doctor Piri was killed in the first battle with Nero.
But he put all that aside to see to Spock’s needs.
“I know it won’t change anything, but I want to offer my condolences on your loss, Spock,” he said
gently.
Spock eyed McCoy tiredly and nodded his gratitude. The adrenaline of the
fast and furious action of the past days had worn off and Spock was left with exhaustion, bruises and the crushing weight
of loss.
The ship was limping back to Earth. Spock had tried to distract himself
with reports and repairs, but he still caught himself unsure of where he was or why he was there. But it all came back to him whenever he saw his father anchorless and lost.
Nyota had tried to give him support, to nurture him, but Spock felt smothered.
He didn’t need softness and coddling. And he couldn’t reach
out to Sarek. Spock found that he had nothing left to deal with his father’s
pain.
He needed strength.
He needed steel.
He needed McCoy.
Spock turned from the viewport and whispered to the doctor, “May I speak with you in private, Doctor?”
McCoy moved them into an empty isolation room. He waited for Spock to
speak first.
“I feel like I am drowning again,” Spock admitted finally.
McCoy nodded sadly. “I’m sure it feels like that,” he
said gently. “I wish I could wake us all up from this nightmare, but I
can’t. We just have to accept what happened and move on. You’re grieving. Be gentle with yourself. My god, you lost not only your mother but also your whole world.
Of course you’re going to feel overwhelmed by pain and loss and anger
and a whole bunch other emotions. Don’t fight them.”
Spock nodded, then his face crumpled and he began to shake.
McCoy put his hands on Spock’s shoulders. “You have been so
strong for all of us,” the doctor murmured. “If you need to fall
apart, then go ahead and fall apart. I’m right here.”
Spock trembled with the effort to control himself. “If I allow myself
to fall apart,” Spock began, “I fear I will not stop.”
“It’s okay,” McCoy gentled. “I’m a doctor. I’m good at putting people back together.”
Spock looked deeply into McCoy’s eyes and saw his genuine concern, just as he remembered from that fateful day
at the Academy pool. He saw McCoy’s strength and sincerity.
Spock found a haven in McCoy. He knew he was safe at last, safe enough
to allow himself to be fragile, to be vulnerable, to find release.
And release he did.
Spock launched himself into McCoy’s strong arms, arms that once before dragged him from the abyss, that held
him aloft, that beat life into him once again. Spock crumpled into fragments
in those strong arms, trusting in the doctor’s sworn words that McCoy knew how to reassemble him when this moment of
weakness, of indulgence had passed.
The doctor stroked Spock’s hair and back. “I’ll stay
with you as long as you need,” McCoy promised. “I’ll help you
pick up the pieces.
Part of Spock’s mind, a part not so smothered with grief, analyzed his fragmented self. He remembered a mosaic built of shards from what was once an eating vessel.
His mother had fashioned the pieces into a table top. “See, Spock,”
she had said, “even out of brokenness and pain, we can build something new and beautiful.”
Spock realized that Vulcan could never be restored, that the vast majority of its people were lost forever, but, with
considerable work, the rebuilding of their culture could bring forth something new.
And it could reignite the familiar.
Spock had lost his time sense. How long had they been sitting on the floor,
slumped against the wall? How long had he been in the good doctor’s arms?
Spock decided that it didn’t matter.
He reached up and pulled McCoy’s head down to his to thank him properly.
It was very pleasant indeed.
-END-