Chapter Text
Something is wrong with Leonard.
Or, perhaps, not wrong exactly, but definitely not right.
Leonard had noticeably reduced his visits to the bridge and stayed past his allotted shift at a greatly increased frequency over the past week. Leonard was also longing for something. The feeling he occasionally noticed from across the bond is familiar, and yet not. The fact that he could almost, but not quite, identify the emotion and thus solve the issue was quite frustrating.
Leonard is not content, and by proxy Spock is not content. However, any attempt to speak with McCoy about his discontent had been brushed aside or given the “run around,” as the doctor liked to say. Since it was obvious that he could not hope to solve this problem by himself, Spock decided to seek help. Thus, he found himself in the mess with the captain and discussing ship operations while waiting for their food to synthesize.
They picked up their trays headed for the nearest free table. “Captain,” Spock began as they settled in, “there is a matter with which I seek counsel.”
“Lay it on me, Spock. I’m always happy to help.” Jim’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth. “Hey, are those peaches?” he asked, a hint of surprise coloring his tone.
Spock glanced at his tray. “Yes, they are. I had a… craving,” he admitted.
Jim’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a peaches kind of guy. Figured they were too sweet for you. They’re more Bones’s thing anyway; says they remind him of home.”
Oh. The pieces fell into place is Spock’s mind. Leonard was homesick. Looking back in light of his conclusion, the symptoms’ cause was obvious now. If he were human, Spock would have smacked himself for his blindness. But he was a Vulcan whose mate had need of him, and he could already see the plan forming in his mind.
Jim’s voice brought him out of his scheming. “Anyway, wasn’t there something you wanted to ask me, Spock?”
“Negative. I have found the answer to my problem.”
A slight frown tugged on Jim’s lips, concern taking over his easy smile. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Jim,” Spock said, letting his lips curve up slightly in reassurance.
Jim snorts and turns back to his meal. “Well don’t let me keep you waiting. Finish up and go deal with whatever’s up with Bones. And tell him I said hi.”
Not for the first time, Spock wondered how Jim could come to such accurate conclusions on so little evidence.
With due haste, Spock finished his meal and disposed of the tray, though he held on to the peaches, before heading to his shared quarters. On the way, he made a discreet call to Nyota detailing his plan. She smiled and promised to get to work on it right away. Spock thanked her and closed the connection before continuing on his way.
When he arrived, Leonard was sitting at the desk reading something on his padd, already showered and changed into lounge wear. Spock pressed his hand against that back of his mate’s neck, enjoying both the physical and mental warmth settling into him from the close proximity. He glanced down at the padd in Leonard’s hand and had to suppress an exasperated sigh at seeing it was a medical report.
“You work too hard.”
Leonard had no such qualms about suppressing his emotional reactions, and snorted. “Pot, meet kettle.”
“Vulcans can—”
“Sleep only one night a year and survive on a drop of water a day. I know.”
Despite himself, Spock felt his lips curve upward. He felt an answering amusement trickle its way across the bond.
“Indeed. But as I understand, humans cannot. As such, I believe a snack would not be remiss.” He placed the bowl of sliced peaches on the desk, and had the pleasure of watching Leonard’s eyes light up.
“You didn’t have to, Spock.”
“No. But I wished to.”
Leonard’s smile made Spock wish he had an entire tree of ripe peaches to give Leonard. For now, he settled for watching Leonard thoroughly enjoy his treat. When he finished, Spock brought up a point from one of the articles he’d recently read, and they whiled away the evening debating the finer points of the issue.
Eventually, McCoy yawned, and Spock noticed the heavy sense of fatigue him down.
“Come,” Spock said, gently pulling Leonard off his seat and propelling him toward the bed, “it is time for rest.”
Leonard smiled and tugged off his shirt, throwing in the direction of the closet, too tired to care about where it landed. Spock, however, did care, and picked up the shirt and the pants when Leonard tossed them before removing his own clothes and placing them all in the laundry basket before sliding into bed. Leonard shifted, throwing a leg over his and burrowing into his side. Spock curled his arm around him, feeling Leonard’s warmth cover him like another blanket. Spock felt the last of the tension seep out of him as he entered a light meditative state before finally joining Leonard in his dreams.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Spock was on the bridge when the call finally came through.
“Doctor McCoy,” Lieutenant Uhura greeted, “there is a personal vid call for you. Would you like me to patch it through?”
“Sure, Lieutenant.”
Jim shared a wink with Nyota, and Spock suddenly understood how they were in range for a live call to Earth so quickly.
“Thank you, Jim.”
“No problem, Spock. What are friends for?”
Spock would have replied, but Leonard’s joy at seeing his daughter flooded their link. Jim tactfully used the distraction to turn back to the view screen. Spock strengthened his shields until the link was barely noticeable before turning his full attention to his station. Leonard deserved his privacy.
Spock was analyzing some of the latest sensor data when he felt a knock on his shields. He lets them fall, and is gratified to feel his mate brimming with joy, with barely a trace of the longing that had plagued him.
“Thank you,” Leonard says.
“You are welcome,” Spock replies. “He hesitates, then adds, “I will always do everything within my power to relieve your suffering, Leonard.”
“I know, ya pointy-eared hobgoblin.” The waves of affection belie the insult for the endearment it is. “Make sure Jim doesn’t blow up the ship. I’ve got enough to do already without his help.”
With that parting shot, Leonard withdrew and the link quieted. Bent over his scanner, face hidden from view, Spock allowed a smile to cross his lips before focusing back on his work.