Lawful Obedience, Part Four

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Star Trek)
Rating: PG-13

LINK TO PART ONE

~

"He has a very interesting story," McCoy was telling Jim as Spock took a seat next to the doctor. "He claims to have lived out his entire life…his last memory from the 19th century is as an old, tired man, walking home in the rain after a vestry meeting in October of 1870."

"Vestry meeting?" Spock asked.

"A church committee meeting," the doctor clarified, absently draping an arm over the back of Spock's chair. "You'll have to learn about those too, when you become part of my family," he added with a wink.

Spock decided to ignore the doctor's proximity—there was no reason, after all, that he should be so conscious of it. "I will bear that in mind, however unlikely that event," Spock assured him.

Jim blinked at the two men, looking as if he were trying to decide what to make of their exchange. In the end, however, he just turned back to McCoy. "You were saying, Bones?"

"Well, he took off his cloak while his wife chastised him for being late, sank down into a chair and found that he had no ability to answer her. He probably had a stroke. He does remember being brought up to his bed—and that's all. But we know that he died shortly thereafter."

"We know that Robert E. Lee died shortly thereafter," Kirk corrected.

McCoy nodded in acknowledgement. "True."

"What is his next memory?" he asked.

"Nightmarish. He said it was as if he had taken excessive amounts of morphine. Despite the drugged feeling, however, he remembers pain, voices hovering over him—not his family's voices, but the voices of strangers—and then waking up in the wilderness, with a thirty year old body again. Security from the base at Octavian VII found him. He didn't know what to make of their uniforms, weapons...or the women among them 'who looked like they practiced a disgraceful trade.'"

The doctor paused to grin. "He, ah, doesn't think much of short skirts, I'm afraid. In fact, when he saw his first aliens, he thought he was still in some sort of drugged nightmare. Security didn't know what to do with him, so they transferred him to Dr. Lopez's facility on Hepson Base."

Spock put the tips of his fingers together. "An unusual story," he acknowledged. "Does Robert E. Lee have any direct living descendants?" he asked.

McCoy nodded. "He does. I've already made arrangements to compare their DNA with our patient's. I should have the results within a day or two."

"In the meanwhile," Spock told him, "I would like to interview the patient."

"All right," McCoy said, "But put it off till tomorrow. I gave him a mild sedative—I don't think he can rest at all without it. He's too wound up. But you can speak with him come morning and then we'll let Scotty show off all the advances in engineering."

Kirk grinned at that. "I don't think Scotty knows or cares who Robert E. Lee is, but he's thrilled to have another engineer on board."

The captain paused and leaned back in his chair. "I'd like a look at the wilderness where they found our patient," he commented. Then he leaned forward again, flicked on his computer screen, and hailed the bridge. "Lt. Reilly, belay orders to proceed to the Anamach Asylum and chart a course to Octavian VII."

"Aye-aye, sir," Reilly responded.

"Lt. Uhura," Jim continued, "Inform the Anamach Asylum that our arrival will be delayed. Remain noncommittal, please, on when they can expect their patient."

"Yes, Captain," she answered.

Jim flicked the screen off. "Is the fellow dangerous, Bones?"

McCoy shook his head. "Not in my opinion. He was anxious to escape the facility at Hepson Base and he has no desire to be committed to Anamach—but I can't say I blame him for that."

"All right," Jim said. "I'll reduce his security detail to one person and let him have free run of the ship. We'll decide what to do once you have all your tests results back and once we've gotten a look around that wilderness."

~

Spock remained disturbingly conscious of McCoy's presence throughout the day. The doctor stopped by the bridge twice more and each time he took his customary spot at Spock's side. More than once, McCoy put a hand on his shoulder, or his arm, or even his back.

But there was nothing unusual in that, Spock reminded himself. The doctor had been practicing such inappropriate familiarity almost since the day they had met. It was a deplorable human trait, this constant need for physical contact.

And yet, Spock had long since ceased to mind the contact. He was accustomed to it from both Jim and McCoy and had even learned to return such gestures. And he was accustomed to it from Lt. Uhura as well, he reflected.

Uhura, in fact, made a habit of 'flirting' with him. Spock had always understood 'flirting' among humans to be part of their ritual for finding a mate—and while Uhura had acknowledged the truth of that, she had assured Spock that she flirted with him merely 'to keep in practice.' Because Uhura did not seem to be developing any inappropriate attachment to him, Spock had accepted that and allowed her to continue practicing.

But none of that explained the highly illogical fact that Spock was having trouble concentrating when the doctor was near at hand. He forced himself to examine that fact with all the detachment he could muster but could reach no definite conclusion. Only one possibility made sense: that he was forming an attachment to the doctor that was only appropriate in bond-mates.

That, however, was unacceptable. Spock could not imagine a more unsuitable bond-mate. McCoy made a habit of baiting him into displaying human emotions, after all. He claimed to deplore the Vulcan's logic—although, Spock noted wryly, for all his cantankerous bluster and criticisms of Vulcan philosophy, the doctor himself generally behaved quite rationally.

And Spock could not logically deny how the doctor's calculated risk with the vaccine had affected him. The very real possibility of losing McCoy had forced Spock to imagine life without him. It was a surprisingly bleak prospect.

Spock paused in his work. It was, perhaps, just as well that the doctor was not on the bridge at the moment. Spock could not afford to be distracted by his presence while he thought this through.

In the end, he decided it would be illogical not to explore the possibility of bonding with McCoy. But he did not know if McCoy had any desire to bond with him. Worse, he did not know how to practice the human rituals that might entice the doctor and lead to bonding.

He did, however, know whom to ask.

He left his station and walked over to Uhura. "Lieutenant," he said, speaking softly as he leaned over her, "I believe you are entitled to a short break at this time. Might I induce you to share it with me?"

She looked up at him with surprise, but no reluctance. "Of course," she said. "I'm dying to hear the gossip about our patient."

Spock considered her request. The information was not classified—and the patient himself was making no secret of his beliefs regarding his origins—so there seemed no harm in relaying it. "I will share what I know," he told her, "if you will, in exchange, enlighten me regarding certain human customs."

"Deal," she said at once. "Which human customs?"

He kept his voice low as he answered. "Customs regarding the flirtations that lead to mating," he explained.

Uhura's mouth dropped open. Spock did not quite understand why his curiosity on this subject should engender such a response, but it took the lieutenant nearly thirty seconds to recover from her evident surprise.

"Well," she managed at last, "You've come to the right person." Then she put a reassuring hand on his arm and informed the captain that she was taking her break.

LINK TO PART FIVE