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Leonard closed up his medkit with a passive yet kind face and nodded to the Vulcan ambassador. The man had a painful rash on his hands and mouth caused by an allergic reaction to the newest Federation planet’s lacquer on their wooden dinnerware. It was tough to pin down, but the ambassador had been fine until the formal dinner the previous night. He ate the same foods he’d eaten before, and the only thing different was the ceremonial dinnerware. Leonard couldn’t help but mentally laugh at how his mama would have reacted to their choice of “fine china” on this planet.
While the ambassador hadn’t been on Vulcan on that fateful day seven years ago, he’d had family members that Leonard personally treated. Leonard was given so much respect and kindness from such an emotionally distant species that a part of him wanted to call it warmth. Ambassador Slen was polite and grateful, and probably the best patient he’d ever had is in his career as a doctor. Now, if only Spock would be as easy to work with when injured or sick. Better yet, if Spock could stop winding up in his sickbay needing medical attention, that’d be perfect.
The musing must have shown on Leonard’s face because Ambassador Slen lifted a quizzical brow and tilted his head ever so slightly, similar but starkly different from the way Spock does it. “Your face softens considerably when you are thinking about whatever it is that you were thinking of.” Leonard blushed in response and ducked his head back down to his medkit despite clearly being done packing it. “A fascinating reaction, although I must apologize for verbalizing my thoughts. It was not an appropriate action for your culture, and I should have restrained myself.”
Leonard waved it off. “Don’t worry about it, Ambassador Slen. You’ve been dealing with this world’s candor for months now, trying to get ‘em to join the Federation. I kind of admire them being able to just say what’s on their mind whenever, wherever, and I also admire you for doing the same." He drummed on the kit with his thumbs as he really thought about what Ambassador Slen must have gone through. "I know how private Vulcan culture can be. It’s, ah, also my culture to keep our true feelings to ourselves and wrap them in pretty words. I wish I were able to be that candid.” He stood up and looped the kit’s strap over his shoulder. “Well, I should get going if there’s nothing else.”
“Since you appreciate the candor, I must tell you that I wish to give you more than words of thanks. You and your team, under your guidance, saved my bondmate and children from succumbing to their injuries during the Battle of Vulcan. Further, you were able to swiftly deduce the cause of my illness and relieve the ailment. Please, speak candidly. What is it that I could offer you to express a portion of my gratitude, Doctor McCoy?” Slen looked so damn earnest that Leonard felt his chest tighten.
Unfortunately, Leonard couldn’t think of anything that he wanted other than a visit from Jo, but that was impossible. Plus, he only had a year and a half left on the five-year mission; he’d see her soon enough anyway. But a little honesty couldn't hurt, and he might earn some points with Spock. “Unless you can get my daughter Jo flown out for a visit, I can’t think of anything else I’d want for myself. However, my friend Spock has been lookin’ a little homesick lately, and you might be just the perfect person to help me make him feel better.”
Slen nodded and crossed his arms, putting his hands in his sleeves. “I will look into the former and help you with the latter. Does he have particular interests in Vulcan culture that you are aware of?”
“He likes tea, and his lute playing is phenomenal.”
“Ah, I have the perfect gift.” The left corner of Slen’s lips rose ever so slightly as he turned to wander off into one of the back rooms. When he returned, he had a rather large potted plant in his hands that had what appears to be hundreds of leaves. “I have been cultivating this tea—” for a single syllable word that the universal translator gave him, Slen’s mouth sure moved a lot, “—plant for forty-seven standard years. I would be honored to gift it to the saviors of the Vulcan people.” There was the slightest smile as he stroked some of the leaves. “To the saviors of my family.”
If only Leonard knew just how important that tea plant was to Ambassador Slen and would be to Spock. Hell, it turned out to be special for him, too. But all Leonard could think of was how to get the blasted thing up to the Enterprise and snuck into Spock's room.
After two hours of sneaking around and getting more equipment and instructions from Slen, Leonard and Jim managed to get the tea plant into Spock’s quarters. They even had time to set up the environmental bubble apparatus Slen gave them to ensure that his plant baby lived another fifty years. Once they finished, Leonard went back to sickbay to finalize his reports and send Spock a no-context instruction manual that Slen had given them. He grinned from ear to ear when Spock replied, inquiring as to why he’d been sent a Vulcan tea plant care manual by a human who had the opposite of a green thumb.
Leonard was disappointed that he didn’t hear anything else from Spock before bed, and he didn’t have time to check his messages when he was alerted to an emergency an hour before his alarm was supposed to go off. While he never appreciated the timing of any emergency, Leonard adored his last hour of sleep. That was when his body would naturally wake up, with his alarm only announcing the time Leonard needed to get his feet out of bed. It was glorious, but not something he got to experience this time around.
The engineering ensign who tried to fry his arm off wasn’t the worst fix he’d had to do, but it was much more complicated of a surgery than he liked. By the end, he’d invested six hours into reattaching and healing all the nerves, muscle, sinew, and skin and knitting the bones. The ensign would live to see another incident and have a fully functioning arm and hand that wouldn’t be any worse for wear once the soreness wore off in a few days. After he was able to kick the man out safely, Leonard returned to his office and flopped back into his chair, putting his feet up on his desk, and draped his limp arms out on the arms of his seat like he was about to be raptured.
Leonard was so out of it that he heard the door neither chime nor open and when Spock politely cleared his throat, he nearly fell out of his chair. If it weren’t for Spock’s quick reaction time, he probably would have. Instead, Leonard’s chair was steadied with one pale hand, and the other was holding a delightfully fresh smelling coffee. Unfortunately, Leonard needed the coffee to be already in his system for his brain to tell his hands to take the coffee and start drinking it.
“Is it not to your preference, Doctor McCoy?”
“Leonard.” Technically he wasn’t on shift, and he was supposed to be getting food, so it didn’t make sense for Spock to be using his title. Yeah, that was the reason.
“Is it not to your preference, Leonard?” Spock amended.
“No, it smells wonderful Spock, just… Waitin’ for my brain to catch up an’ take it.” Leonard cleared his throat, blinked a few times, settled his feet on the ground, and tentatively reached out to take the cup from Spock. “Thank you, Spock. You have no idea how much I needed this right now.” He took a sip—it was the perfect temperature—and savored it. The flavor matched the aroma, and it was absolutely divine. Mostly black with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon, which he didn’t know Spock knew about. “Damn, Spock, you sure know how to treat a guy.”
“A cup of coffee is no comparison to the gift you have given me, Leonard. However, it was something small that I could give you immediately. I am gratified that it is to your liking.” Spock started to turn back toward the door, but Leonard grabbed his sleeve just above the two commander stripes.
“Spock, I’m serious, this was mighty thoughtful of you, and I appreciate it. You knew exactly when I’d need coffee, prepared it precisely how I like it, and gave it to me at the perfect temperature. I’d have been happy with the caffeinated sludge that the mess serves up, but you went out of your way for this. Don’t downplay it just ‘cause I happened to luck out with a patient.” Leonard shrugged and took another slow and careful sip. As much as he wanted to drown in it, he also wanted it to last as long as it remained hot enough to drink.
“An elder Vulcan would sooner give up an ear than a tea plant they'd cultivated for fifty years, Leonard,” Spock said flatly, though it sounded like there was a bit of insistence in that passive tone.
Leonard choked a bit on the sip he’d just taken but managed not to spill much of it, thankfully. He stared up at Spock, wide-eyed and in a bit of a panic. “Oh my god, no way, there’s no way a plant can be that meaningful, or else he wouldn’t have given it to me!”
“On the contrary, Leonard, the plant was meaningful, but Ambassador Slen found more meaning in gifting it to you to gift to me. While the Enterprise crew are all held dearly by the remaining Vulcans, the esteem in which you are held is on par with the captain. Your swift and decisive action to take command of a damaged and short-staffed sickbay and your adept handling of all decisions from there on out ensured that more Vulcan lives were not lost, including Ambassador Slen’s entire family. And my father.”
Leonard was pretty sure he was blushing based on the temperature of his cheeks, and he lowered his eyes back to his coffee to contemplate what was said. He was just doing his job, and he’ll admit that he did a pretty damn good job, but it was still his job. He didn’t put his life in danger as Jim and Spock did. Now that was hero stuff. “I, uh, don’t know what to say. But thank you?”
“Leonard, you need to understand your worth. You frequently lecture Jim on this subject, but you neglect to follow your own advice.” Spock looked at the old-fashioned clock that Leonard kept on his desk before looking back at Leonard. “I must return to the bridge. Ensure that you eat, as I suspect you skipped breakfast, and remember that you are not currently on the schedule for another twelve hours. You should relax after the report is finished.”
“Yeah, yeah, have a good rest of your day, Spock,” Leonard said, smiling, and waved him out with one hand while bringing up the world’s best cup of coffee to his lips again. “But I wouldn’t mind you bringing me a cup of this whenever you get the urge, y’know. If you really want to thank me.” He took another sip and grinned.
“I will keep that in mind, Leonard. Good day to you as well.” With that, Spock left, and Leonard enjoyed the rest of his coffee with a warm feeling in his chest. Their friendship had been steadily growing each year they worked together, but there’d been a breakthrough on Altamid. At this point, Leonard's friendship with him was at the same level—although entirely different—as his relationship with Jim. While Leonard saw Jim as the brother he never had, he saw Spock as...well, he couldn’t quite pin it down yet, but he knew it’d only be a matter of time.