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For You
Jazz Man
McCoy checked the chrono again. 2014. That couldn't be right. If it was
right Spock was late. Spock was never late. At least he'd never been late
before . . . Before they had started seeing each other. Their relationship
was new, less than a week old. Ship's business had interfered and they hadn't
been alone together since that night.
A few days ago, Spock had come to McCoy's quarters to discuss a problem he'd
been
having with a crewmember.
"He continues to make reference to my Vulcan heritage. I do not understand
why he does this."
McCoy put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Are you sure he means
to insult you? I mean when I call you Vulcan I don't mean to insult. Hell, if
I thought I was getting to you I wouldn't do it."
"I am . . . quite familiar with insults, Doctor. I can tell when someone is
insulting me."
"I'm sorry, Spock," said McCoy, laying his hand on the table so that it almost
touched Spock's. "It's just no one wants to admit to bigotry. Humans have
tried to overcome it. It seems some of us failed."
"Today he almost refused to work with me," said Spock. "It was only when Lt
Sulu intervened that he agreed."
"You mean he didn't respect your rank?"
"No, Doctor, he does not."
McCoy rose from his desk, "Do you want me to have a word with him?"
"I do not know. Do you think it would help?" asked Spock looking up.
"I am his senior officer, but then so are you," said McCoy shaking his head.
"I don't see what harm it can do."
"Thank you."
McCoy waited for a moment, expecting the Vulcan to leave. "Was there anything
else?"
"May I ask you a question, Doctor?"
"Of course," said McCoy moving closer to Spock.
"Why do you make reference to my Vulcan heritage and physical characteristics?"
It wasn't a question McCoy had expected, but if there was one thing he'd
learned it was that this particular Vulcan never did what he expected.
"To be perfectly frank, Spock," said McCoy at last, "It's because I find you
very attractive. Fascinating, you might say." Taking it as a good sign that
Spock hadn't already fled, McCoy continued. "Your ears, for example," said
McCoy reaching out to touch Spock's ear, "Are, well, damn sexy." He ran his
fingers round the outer edge of Spock's ear. "So alien, yet so familiar."
McCoy took Spock's hand from the table. Holding it in his own he touched the
back lightly with his thumb. "Such elegant hands," he said, searching Spock's
eyes for any sign that he didn't want this conversation to continue. McCoy
wasn't sure where the conversation was going but he sure as hell wanted to find
out.
Not if Spock didn't want to though. McCoy paused for a moment, Spock's hand
still in his.
"I think I begin to understand," said Spock, his voice almost
imperceptibly rough.
McCoy held back a smile, deciding it was now or never. "I'm not sure you do
understand," he said leaning in to kiss Spock. When the Vulcan didn't respond,
McCoy pulled back. Looking at him, McCoy realised he hadn't misjudged. He
kissed Spock again. The Vulcan did understand.
2018. Spock was still late. For a moment McCoy thought he might indeed have
misjudged. He shivered as he remembered the rest of that night. Spock had
wanted that as much as he had, no doubt about that. The question remained,
where was Spock? McCoy knew that he could find out easily, but if he asked,
the request would be logged. He had no medical reason for trying to find the
Vulcan. He'd just have to do it the old fashioned way.
Spock hadn't wanted to let him in. When McCoy threatened to use his medical
override Spock relented.
"Spock, we need to talk," he said, before taking in the scene in front of him.
Spock was dressed in meditation robes, his firepot was lit. McCoy had
interrupted something. "What's going on here?"
Spock looked nervy, like all he wanted was for McCoy to leave. "It does not
concern you."
"Doesn't concern me?" asked McCoy incredulous. "You concern me, Spock, I
thought you had realised that by now."
Spock slid into a chair. McCoy moved toward him, but Spock raised a hand in
protest. "I cannot cope," said Spock suddenly.
McCoy frowned, still keeping his distance. "What can't you cope with?"
"You," the sound came out like a sob.
"I'm not sure I understand."
"You are human. It would be illogical to expect you to understand," said
Spock with some difficulty.
"Understand what, Spock?"
"That this cannot continue," he said.
"Is this some Vulcan thing about same-sex relationships?" asked McCoy with a
scowl.
Spock shook his head.
McCoy knelt by Spock's chair. "Then what is it? I can't help if I don't know
what's wrong."
Spock seemed to think about fleeing, but realising he had no where to go he
spoke to McCoy. "I am having difficulty concentrating. On the Bridge today my
attention was elsewhere. The Captain thought I was unwell and relieved me of
duty with an order to visit Sickbay."
"But you didn't come to Sickbay," said McCoy, "Because I'm the reason you were
distracted."
"Correct."
McCoy let out a low whistle, "You sure are something, Spock."
"Everything is something, Doctor," said Spock.
"It most certainly is," said McCoy with a chuckle. "You're something special
though." Before Spock had a chance to respond, McCoy continued. "Tell me what
you want, Spock, and I'll do everything in my power to help you get it."
"I want you," Spock ground out, "Inside me."
"There's nothing I want more, Spock, so why is it wrong?" asked McCoy touching
his hand to Spock's cheek.
Spock leant into McCoy's hand almost involuntarily. "I cannot function
effectively," he said, his voice a whisper.
"It'll pass, Spock, or you'll learn to cope with the distraction. I spent
most of today day dreaming, but when something important happened I could
focus. You have to learn to give in sometimes."
"Like now?" asked Spock.
"Like now," agreed McCoy.
End
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