TITLE: The Rhapsody--Part 4

AUTHOR: T'Prillah





"Ah. There you are, Doctor," Spock called out as the door to his quarters opened to admit Doctor McCoy. "I have been looking for you."

"Evening, roomie. I heard you paging me. I was in sickbay, where'd you think I went?" sulked McCoy as he entered.

"You managed to avade Doctor M'Benga. I have re-programmed the doors to your quarters to deny you admittance from the outside. The Captain and I are the only ones who can now override it."

"I know," McCoy replied sheepishly. "I...tried to enter them before I came down here."

"I thought you might. You cannot break this particular code."

"Well...I do have a medical override," McCoy said. "I should have. But, for some reason, it wouldn't work."

"I was aware of your medical override. You still will not be able to override my code. I have made certain of that."

"You know...I appreciate that Spock," McCoy grinned. "Hey, you know that nobody's noticed that I'm wearing full commander's stripes? But, same size my ass." He tugged at the collar. "This thing's a little tight. Your collar sits higher up and I'm slightly more muscular than you."

"I had not noticed."

"Very funny. Well, if you're now cracking jokes at my expense, then I think I really do need a drink."

"I have no alcohol."

"Somehow, I figured that. Which is why I hope you don't mind I brought my own office supply." McCoy slammed down a bottle of Bourbon.

"Doctor, you will damage my desk."

"So what. Get me two glasses."

"Must you always insist on pressuring me to imbibe?"

"Come on, dammit. Don't make me drink alone."

Spock sighed and moved out from his desk. He opened up a cabinet, pulled out two glasses and set them in front of McCoy. "You know what happened the last time I had a drink with you."

"Yes I most certainly do. You were puking your guts out."

"Affirmative," said Spock. "Which begs the question, why do you want me to have an additional episode of what you call: 'puking my guts out'?"

"I like holding your head?"

Spock turned sharply so McCoy couldn't witness the slight smirk.

"Come on Spock, a little suffering is good for the soul. Even a Vulcan one. As they say on Earth, misery loves company. Plus, as I recall, you had more than one drink last time."

"Due to what humans would call 'peer pressure'."

McCoy chuckled. "From little old me? Nah."

Spock shook his head and said pointedly: "It was the night you decided you did not want to be my bondmate."

Touché. McCoy nodded understanding at the Vulcan, then lowered his head and managed, after a beat: "Uh...maybe I should stay with Jim. I'm not going to pretend this is isn't a little uncomfortable between us."

Spock shrugged slightly. "If you would rather not share a bed with me, I can forgo sleep. I have reports to work on."

"No, no. You need sleep too. I don't mind sharing a bed with you. If you don't."

"Not at all, Doctor McCoy."

"Good, I'm glad we got that settled. Is it hot in here or is it just me?" McCoy remarked nervously as he poured himself, then Spock a drink.

"You are not comfortable, forgive me. Computer, reduce temperature to 25 degrees centigrade." That was even lower than the 28 degree's centigrade he'd normally set it when the doctor had visited in the past.

"Since when do you care if I'm comfortable or not?" McCoy joked as he plunked himself down in the chair on the other side of Spock's desk.

"You are an overnight guest in my quarters."

"I was only making a little joke Spock."

"I see. Is it wise to drink whilst in your condition?"

McCoy snorted. "I'm not pregnant, just accidentally bonded to a woman I don't even want to be with."

"You would if she was standing here next to you."

"Yeah, only against my will, Spock."

"If you believe that alcohol will lessen your 'will', Doctor, you are mistaken."

"Don't tell me about how my body reacts to booze. Believe me, I can handle it Spock. Don't worry."

"Have you noticed any more ill effects?" asked Spock, watching him.

McCoy slowly nodded. He could feel the woman's presence in his quarters creeping up on him. He felt a siren call for him to return to her. He wanted to return. He wanted so much to push Spock out of the way and bolt down the corridor and straight into his own quarters and into her arms. His mind kept flashing back to making love to the woman, feeling his own pleasure in her through the bond and how good that felt...that addiction of it....it frightened him down to the very core of his being.

This woman, a complete stranger to him, could reach into the dark recesses of his mind and read who he really was. And she was...doing exactly that...reaching in...he felt absolutely helpless. He was unable to hide from her. He was losing himself bit by bit, hour by hour, to this woman.

He was damned scared of anything remotely close to bonding or joining minds. Even the rare times that he'd had to mind meld with Spock had completely unnerved him and unsettled him for days.

He could feel the flutter of someone else.

And this was what a bond with someone felt like? A struggle to keep his identity intact? If this was what it was all about he didn't even want this with Spock.

He could feel himself slipping and needed to keep a hold on his normal habits. Like drinking himself into oblivion.

"Doctor McCoy," Spock grabbed McCoy's arms and shook him out of it.

"I have to go back to my quarters, now, Spock," McCoy suddenly gasped with eyes blazing.

"You cannot."

"Please...you have to stop me!" McCoy begged, as he pushed Spock aside with an odd strength and lunged out through the doors. He managed to get a few feet down the corridor till the Vulcan grabbed his arm and pulled him back towards the cabin, garnering a stare or two from a passing crewman.

"Computer!" snapped Spock as he thrust McCoy back in through the doors and into a chair.

"Door lock, from the inside, on my voice print, only! Doctor, you do that again and I will sedate you."

McCoy sagged with the stress of conflicting emotions coursing through his veins. "Perhaps you should nerve pinch me. It'll be the only way to stop me obsessing about what I think I want to do."

"Believe me doctor, you do not wish to compound the situation with the sensation of the nerve pinch."

McCoy shuddered. "You're probably right. Let's just say, I'll be glad when this over." He reached over to pick up his glass and motioned for Spock to pick his own up to clink it with. "Drink your drink. Cheers, Spock."

Spock took a sip reluctantly. The Bourbon stung his throat as he swallowed it.

Eager to change the subject to avoid constantly thinking about the woman, McCoy said: "So, what'cha been reading?"

"A journal on Deltan physiology."

"Oh." McCoy quickly downed his glass and looked for something else to talk about to change the subject. "So, uh, what's that you got over there?" He motioned over by a sheet of real paper. "That looks antique."

"It is the sheet music for 'Hungarian Rhapsody no 2' by Linz for Earth Piano. My mother sent it to me. I picked it up at the last star base."

"Isn't that piece kinda difficult to play?"

"Not for a Vulcan."

McCoy chuckled. "If I know you, I bet you'd give anything for a piano right now."

"I would," Spock was forced to admit. "However, I have been transposing the tune for my harp."

"Really? Let's have a listen." McCoy poured himself another drink and nodded encouragingly to the Vulcan, as Spock picked it up and started to play the lassan. The dark, somber introduction sounded otherworldly on the Vulcan lyrette. The doctor was mesmerized as he absorbed the tune and studied the long fingers.

Spock stopped after playing his sample and McCoy smiled approvingly. "I like that. That was nice. I miss how you used to play for me."


"Hmmm. It was known as the most overplayed tune in Earth's history, but still very enchanting. Even more so on your ka'athaira."

"Fascinating. You know the Vulcan word for harp."

"Yeah," McCoy said glumly. "I've been learning some Vulcan words."

"From her," said Spock, quietly.

In response, McCoy gently rested his empty glass down. He glanced at the Vulcan, then filled it back up to the top.

After a long awkward silence, Spock tilted his head and cleared his throat. "Well, Doctor McCoy, I'm surprised you enjoyed the tune so much. I hadn't figured you would appreciate something like that."

"Don't be so damned patronizing. I love classical music."

"Yes, but with the bizarre sounds you are fond of listening to, I was starting to wonder."

"Bizarre sounds?!" McCoy retorted a little too forcefully. "Twentieth century rock and roll is not bizarre! When I was a resident that's all we listened to. You just have no taste, I suppose!" He glared at Spock then softened and smiled, "Heh..."

Spock eyes lit up. "An argument would be successful in taking your mind off your predicament for the moment, would it not?"

"Ahhhh, Spock. You're deliberately trying to goad me into an argument to make me feel better. Why are you being so kind to me?" laughed McCoy as he knocked back the Bourbon then poured himself yet another.

"'Kindness' has nothing to do with it, Doctor. I have been ordered by the captain to look after you. I can also see you are struggling to remain in control," said Spock. "However, I do not believe you should consume so much alcohol in your condition. It will have a detrimental affect on your altered nervous system."

Tired of the constant harassment from the Vulcan, McCoy got up defiantly and topped up the Bourbon into his glass. Spock grabbed onto the doctor's arm, swung the man around to face him and pulled the glass out of his hand.

"Then you drink it, Spock," McCoy snapped. "Don't let it go to waste."

The Vulcan met the human's eyes. He held the glass to his lips and downed the lot in one gulp.

As he watched the Vulcan drink from his own glass, McCoy suddenly felt his breath quicken. Spock was oddly attractive when he consumed anything. Whether it was food, drink or at one time, pleasure from McCoy's own body. Through this altered state, McCoy felt it very deeply. Spock appeared to sense the arousal through touching McCoy and caught a glimpse of lust in the doctor's eyes. He let go of the doctor and hastily set the glass down.

"I'm going to get ready for bed," McCoy said tightly. "Mind if I use your bathroom?"

"It is all yours, Doctor McCoy."

"Fine. I'll just be a few minutes." McCoy walked though the bed chamber to the bathroom. As he did so, his eyes fell onto Spock's bed. 'All the things we used to do right there...if that fire god he has sitting there, could talk, we'd be in trouble'.

Letting himself into Spock's bathroom, he removed his uniform (or rather, Spock's uniform) and stepped into the shower. He was again overcome with another dizzy spell and held onto the wall of the small cubicle. He had hoped the booze would help calm him, but it was not helping...not at all. It also didn't make it any easier that he could fully remember everything he and Spock used to do in here too, crammed into this small space.

Suddenly, starting small and getting larger and larger, there was a tingling in his mind, a strange feeling breaking up his thoughts.

And then he felt it. A thought that was not his own.


Feeling this caused blind panic to swell up within him. It was her!

He screamed loudly in his mind. //No! Please don't do this to me! I don't want this with you//

It wasn't natural to talk to somebody like this. Not natural for him to be talking to a complete stranger like this. The room heaved.

//Return to me...Mah-koi//

He summoned up all his strength to communicate back to her: //I want to...God...I want to...but...I can't, believe me. You've caused us a lot of trouble, but my cabin's a lot more comfortable than the brig. So, just stay there.// He felt himself double up in pain and paused, panting. //Who are you?...Why... did you do this to me?//

She would only answer: //It was unintentional.//

Somehow he did not believe her, but he was too ill to pursue the matter. //Just stay there. Let me be...please!//

Nausea was overtaking him and he found himself shaking. He white knuckled the shower cubicle door.

//You do not want me...// The voice in his head was angry and insistent.


//Come back// She sent her arousal though the link. He could only stand by and watch as his own body responded.

//No...please stop it// He gritted his teeth to keep his hand from traveling downward. He was unsuccessful. He touched it. //Stop...// He circled his hand around it, and found his rhythm. He stroked back and forth, smoothly, till he ejaculated into his other hand. //God...stop this...I can't function...//

//Why not? You want another? You do...I can feel it. You cannot hide it from me.//

Oh God. Yes he did. He swayed. Spock...

"Spoooock!" he collapsed in the shower.