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A few more weeks had passed since their Vulcan-southern fusion dinner, and it was Spock’s turn to be overly busy. Leonard made sure to steal him from the bridge at least once per day to eat and also go over important sickbay stuff, but that was just a convenient excuse to make sure Spock ate. He wasn’t aware of what was keeping his friends on high alert, but it was enough that by the end of the week, Spock was looking—actually visibly looking—stressed. Leonard almost considered putting him on medical leave for the rest of the shift but figured, just like with himself, that’d go down like a fly in a punchbowl.
Immediately after alpha shift ended, Leonard met Spock at the bridge to buffer him from Jim—who looked way too perky for anyone, let alone a cranky Vulcan. Unfortunately, Jim kept pushing a chess game, and Leonard had to put a hand to his chest and physically stop him from following them. “Not now, Jim, Spock’s mine for the next few hours. Got a special assignment from New Vulcan that I’m gonna rope him in on, and you don’t have the clearance for it, okay?”
Jim frowned but backed up off of Leonard’s hand. “Spock’s had a busy week, Bones. He shouldn’t be doing more work…”
“Captain, Jim, with all due respect, an assignment from New Vulcan would be a greater pleasure than a game of chess. We will have our game at the scheduled day and time, I assure you. I am looking forward to it.” Spock gave Jim a curt nod and turned to the doctor before gesturing toward the turbolift. “Doctor?”
“See ya, Jimmy, an’ don’t worry, I’ll make sure he gets back to you in one piece.” Leonard waved and followed Spock to the 'lift but had to stop him before long, slender fingers pushed the floor for sickbay. “I lied; we’re going to your room.” Leonard nudged Spock’s hand out of the way—careful to only touch his sleeve-covered wrist—and pressed the correct button. “Knowin’ Jim, I figured he would try to getcha to do something you didn’t really wanna do, and knowin’ you, you’d go along with it.”
Spock’s brows twitched downward in confusion, but he didn’t say anything until they were in his quarters. And when he started to say something, Leonard was quick to interrupt him. “Mind if I take off my outer uniform? It’s a little hot in—don’t you dare turn the temp down. This is your place.” He wagged a finger at his friend. “And don’t worry, I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do, but I think you’ll like my idea.” The left side of Leonard’s lips curled into a confident smirk.
“You may take off your science blues.” Spock brought his hands together behind his back. “What activity did you have in mind?”
“Oh, relax, Spock.” Leonard sighed and stripped off his outer shirt before looking at Spock, hands on his hips. “We’re gonna meditate your way.”
Spock’s lips parted as his jaw fell a half-centimeter. “Leonard?”
“Spock, we meditated my way last time when I was stressed and needing it," Leonard said as he held his fingers together and turned toward himself before folding them outward to point to Spock. "Now you’re stressed and needing it, so we’re gonna meditate your way.”
“You will not be comfortable in your uniform and will, with a ninety-three point three repeating percent chance, mention it within the first ten minutes of meditation.” Spock disappeared into the bedroom area—which was much larger than Leonard’s—and started rustling around.
“Oh c’mon, at least give me some credit. It’s more like fifty.” Leonard laughed. “Got something else for me to wear or somethin’?”
Spock came out carrying a meditation robe and handed it to Leonard before nodding to the bathroom. “As Vulcan robes are designed to be loose-fitting, I believe it will still fit your frame comfortably.”
“You callin’ me fat, Spock?” Leonard sassed.
“No, Leonard. Your physique is that of a healthy adult male human, I am merely—”
“Spock, I’m teasin’ ya.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. Trust me, Spock, I know y’aren’t the type to say things like that like that. You’re a good guy.” Leonard smiled, took the robe to the bathroom, and started changing. Spock was right, it fit, but it was definitely not the loose-fitting garment he’s seen Spock and other Vulcans wear on occasions. He flexed his biceps and saw the fabric go taut, and he was glad that meditating didn’t require much movement ’cause the robe would be mighty uncomfortable if he had to use his arms. The shoulders were also tight, but due to the long sleeves, it evened out. Once Leonard got everything comfortable, he folded the sides down and tied the sash at his waist. Giving himself one more look, Leonard took a sec to smooth down some of his bushy chest hair that refused to stay inside the robe and then headed back to the main room.
Spock took one look at Leonard and stepped forward. “May I fix your robe?” Leonard barely tilted his head in a nod before Spock was pushing his arms out of the way, undoing the belt, refolding the flaps the other direction, and raising the belt higher on his waist. “Vulcans wear their robes differently depending on the occasion. Now you are ready for meditation.” Spock opened his body toward the room and extended his hand to the two meditation mats—one with a pillow that Leonard assumed was his—and an incense lamp thing for which he didn’t know the name.
“Thanks for fixin’ that Spock, but I’m curious. What was my robe fixin’ me to do?” While his play on words and colloquialism would’ve fooled Spock when they first started hanging out privately, Spock had heard this term enough times to understand what Leonard meant. However, sometimes he wasn't sure how much of Spock’s ignorance of human idioms was actual ignorance and how much was just his own way of teasing. Leonard hoped for the latter, but he would forever fall for it no matter which angle Spock was going for.
“Your robe suggested that you were preparing for an intimate mind meld—”
“It what?!”
“An inti—”
“I know what you said!”
Spock blinked a few times, clearly taken aback by Leonard’s reaction. “I do not see the need for your outburst, Leonard. You were unaware of our customs regarding robes, and therefore I did not interpret the positioning of your robe and tie as a request for intimacy.”
It was now Leonard’s turn to be taken aback because his mind was going ten ways at once, and he wasn’t sure which direction he wanted to go down. He didn’t want to acknowledge anything but friendship at this point. Anything beyond that would be squashed like a Junebug and end up twice as stinky, and not because of him. Instead of dwelling, he took the out Spock gave him and went over to stand in front of his meditation station. “I, uh, have no idea what I’m doing.”
“That much is evident, Leonard, but you need not worry. This activity will center your mind and body, both of which will tell you how to properly situate yourself after you begin.” Spock moved closer and instructed Leonard down into the correct position, used his hands to guide Leonard to the proper posture, and took his spot to Leonard’s right. “Now, simply follow my motions with the meditation aid and then either close your eyes or watch the smoke, whichever you find to be more calming.” Leonard did as Spock did, and soon the room was filled with wonderfully spicy smoke, which included cinnamon and vanilla, and he found peace.
Unfortunately, peace ended when Leonard realized he was leaning against Spock, who was in the process of scooping him off the ground. His limbs felt heavy, and he couldn’t do much more than grunt and twitch in protest as Spock moved him to the bedroom area and set him atop the blankets. When he did finally manage to convince his limbs to do something, it was his stupid hand reaching for Spock’s stupid hand, and his brain only half catching onto what he was doing. “S’rry, Spock…” Leonard yawned and peered up at Spock through half-closed eyes. “I fell ‘sleep. M’ bad.”
“The fault is with me, Leonard. You meditated with me for six hours before falling asleep, at which point I had realized that the depth of my mediation disrupted my ability to sense time.” If Leonard was more awake, he would have seen a slight smile on Spock’s lips. “That was the most successful meditation session I have had on the Enterprise, I thank thee.”
“‘M here all week,” Leonard mumbled through a yawn. “Six hours’s a long time. ‘M stiff.”
“I will let you rest here, I will forgo sleep ton—”
“Spock, ya have a big bed ’cause yer all XO 'n all that, just stay.” Leonard shrugged and sluggishly claimed one of Spock’s pillows before patting the spot next to him until Spock got under the covers and said goodnight. To which Leonard so eloquently responded with, “Big bed, so jealous.”
If he knew those were going to be the last words he’d say before passing out, he would have tried harder to stay awake, and he would have used more polite words like ‘have a good night’ and ‘thank you.’ Instead, Leonard had the best sleep of his life and woke up to the best cup of coffee, as per usual, a full breakfast, a fresh uniform with the correct wrist stripes, and no Spock.
Leonard sipped his coffee with a mix of completeness and emptiness.