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1988-07-31
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The Logical Thing To Do
by
Leah Parker
Chief Medical Officer Jack Ryan of the Atlanta Star Fleet Medical
Center went through his incoming paperwork. As much as he wished that he
wasn't put in this bureaucratic position, he did relish the momentary peace
this task gave him. He quickly went through the contents, sorting them
according to what needed to be done.
Suddenly, he stopped, and stared at the packet in his hand. These
were transfer orders. He did not request anybody's transfer, and was not
aware of anyone requesting transfer themselves. Especially since their
request would have to go through him. That meant someone 'out there'
wanted one of his personnel.
He opened the packet. Dr. Grayson was the one they wanted. There
was an accompanying memo addressed to him. He opened the seal, placed it in
the reader and scanned it quickly.
Ryan stopped the scan and ran it to the beginning, re-reading it more
slowly. He shook his head in wry amusement. When an ambassador said
jump, it seemed that the brass leaped.
He walked to the door of the lab, sweeping his eyes over the occupants
until his eyes rested on a young tech. "Sanders, go tell Dr. Grayson I
need to speak to her." The tech scurried off down the hall. As Ryan went
back into his office, he noted with some amusement that each new batch of
techs seemed to act terrified of him. Who knew what stories were being
circulated about him?
A few minutes later, a knock on his door alerted him to the fact that
Commander Grayson had arrived. She entered at his request, and took the
seat indicated.
"Yes suh, ya'll wanted to see me?" Her voice was rich with a soft
Southern drawl.
"Yes Doctor, I did. I just received your transfer orders." He paused,
looking at her inquiringly.
"Mah transfer orders, suh? Did yo request mah transfer?" She neither
sounded or looked troubled, and that bothered him. But, her question
indicated that she didn't request the transfer either.
"No, I didn't. You've been quite an asset to our Medical Center here
and I hate to see you go." Ryan was sorry to lose her, she had a special
healing touch with the patients that he didn't understand, but respected.
"Thank yo," she said simply.
"It seems that a certain ambassador has requested your immediate
presence on a certain starship. Are you acquainted with Ambassador Sarek
of Vulcan?" He was sure she had heard of him, as he was quite a prominent
figure in current politics, but was not really prepared for her answer.
"Yes, he is mah aunt's husband." She added quickly, noting the look
on his face, "Ah have not spoken to him about a transfer, Dr. Ryan. Ah
have been perfectly content with mah job here, and feel no need to have a
post on board a stahship."
"Well, you're to have one, starting as soon as you can get there." He
handed her the packet that was her transfer orders, transportation chits,
and security passes. "By the way, I received a memo with your orders, so I
know that your Chief Medical Officer will be Leonard McCoy. Do me a favor
and tell him that Jack Ryan sends his regards."
"Of course." She nodded to him and then towards the door. "May Ah go
now? If it's as urgent as ya'll think, Ah need to get much done first."
"Certainly." He rose, and after a brief pause, held out his hand.
"Good luck to you, T'Kara."
A hint of a smile worked around the corners of her mouth, and her eyes
gleamed. "May ya'll live long and prosper, Jack."
* * * * *
Arriving in her quarters, T'Kara emptied her transfer packet onto the
desk. She sorted through the various documents and tapes. The
transportation chits and security passes she placed in her uniform pocket,
along with the tape containing her actual transfer order. She wouldn't be
able to scan that one anyway. The remaining tapes, she placed near her
scanner, and sat down to view them.
The first one was her copy of the transfer order, indicating that,
effective immediately, she was assigned to the U.S.S. Enterprise, NCC
1701A as 'Special Medical Officer'. She was to report to, as Jack Ryan
said, Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer. No mention was made in this
brief summary of her orders of who requested transfer, or what a 'Special
Medical Officer' was.
The next tape was her travel orders. It seemed that it was going to
take three conveyances to get her to San Francisco. And, naturally, once
she got there, there would be a four hour delay before being beamed aboard
the Enterprise.
The last tape was not standard, and therefore interested her the
most. When she inserted it into the scanner, her suspicions were confirmed.
This was a message from Sarek. Apparently he felt that she deserved some
explanation.
To: Commander T'Kara Grayson From: Ambassador Sarek
I know that this transfer has come
unexpectedly, and you have questions.
I have requested the transfer myself, as a
favor of Star Fleet Command. As you may know, my
son, Spock, has gone through a highly unusual
experience.
As a result, he may be in need of specialized
care. Your Aunt Amanda felt that he might need a
human touch, but I felt that a thorough knowledge
of the Vulcan ways would be necessary. We com-
promised on you. Though you were raised on Earth,
your mother taught you well the ways of Vulcan
logic.
Please be aware, T'Kara, that Spock is not
fully himself. He may or may not recognise you --
as his cousin or otherwise.
Also, you may have to ease your Chief Medical
Officer through some difficult times, as he was
the repository for Spock's katra, and has not
recovered as well as he could have.
May you live long and prosper,
Sarek
T'Kara was somewhat amused by this message from her uncle. He had
never had much use for her before, always seeming to be very disapproving
of her whenever visits were exchanged. Though he married an Earth woman,
it didn't seem he felt that her brother should marry a Vulcan woman.
Though, that is exactly what he did.
Vulcan's higher gravity and hotter climate took their toll on Charles
Grayson, so he, his wife T'Ryla and their infant daughter T'Kara left to
live on Earth, in Atlanta.
T'Kara was raised on Earth, and in Earth ways, with her mother
teaching her Vulcan disipline to help her through the hard times. And
there were hard times.
Though Atlanta was a major spaceport city when T'Kara was young,
aliens were not much in evidence. That made her a novelty in school, where
everybody either teased her or stared at her.
Her father's career kept him from home much of the time, so it was
with her mother that she discovered her innate healing abilities. It was
also her mother that convinced her that she should go through medical
school, after she had undergone the Vulcan Healer training. Though Vulcans
would accept her healing on its own merits, Humans seemed to want a degree
to back up claims of any talent.
After finishing medical school, and the problems that she encountered
there, Star Fleet seemed to be the most reasonable place to go. She liked
Earth, and she liked Vulcan, the few times that she had visited there. She
didn't want to choose one over the other for practice, and felt that Star
Fleet would be an acceptable alternative. They promptly assigned her to
Atlanta Star Fleet Medical Center.
Now, after eighteen years of a single assignment, not five miles from
where she grew up, her uncle steps in, and sends her off on a starship, as
'Special Medical Officer'. 'Why not call it like it is, and give me the
title of family spy?' thought T'Kara to herself.
She immediately felt foolish for such a thought. Of course she wasn't
being sent to spy. But a concern for Spock was there, and his parents felt
better for having a relative near at hand. It didn't hurt that she had
medical training, and innate healing abilities.
She shook her head at her thoughts. Years of Earth living had given
her a cynicism that would give fits to someone with a stereotypical view of
Vulcans.
* * * * *
Arriving in San Francisco, T'Kara debated with herself over whether
she should check in with Transport even if she would have a four hour wait,
or find a shower and a meal. Her responsible side won out, and she found
the Transport Officer.
It seemed that Sarek had left instructions to be notified when she
arrived in San Francisco. So, after she finished the checking-in process,
she found herself in Sarek's ambassadorial residence getting her shower and
meal in relative luxury.
"Ah must thank ya'll again, Sarek," she said around a mouthful of
food. "Ah really needed that shower and this food." She sounded like she
could also use some sleep, as her Southern drawl became more pronounced.
"Think nothing of it, T'Kara," said Sarek grandly, as though he
regularly entertained Starfleet personnel.
'Which,' thought T'Kara, 'he very possibly does.'
"I know that this is still all very new to you, the new assignment,
and your special role in it. I want to let you know that I am not only
concerned for Spock, but also for Leonard McCoy. You know that what was
done has never in remembered time been done before, only in legend. It
also follows that the bearer of the katra was never a Human."
"But," she interrupted, "it also follows that the katra was never
half-Human befo', either."
"That is true. That may be a point in favor of complete recovery for
Dr. McCoy. But it may not be. I want you to be as observant of him as you
are of Spock. Spock seems to be taking well to the reintroduction of his
katra, but there are still .... gaps in his grasp of things." He paused
and checked the time. "You're due at the Transporter Center in 20 minutes,
T'Kara. Please remember what I've told you, and if you ever need anything,
just let me know."
"Thank yo," she said, gathering her possessions together. "Ah will
remember what yo have said, and keep a good eye on both of them. Ah'm as
new at this katra game as any of yo, but Ah'll do mah best to do what Ah
can. Good-bye, Sarek. It was a real pleasure to see yo again."
* * * * *
Dr. Leonard McCoy shared Jack Ryan's distain of bureaucratic
paperwork, and sat grumbling over his day's share of it. Female voices
drifted in to his office. One was the voice of the Sickbay yeoman. The
other voice had a drawl he hadn't heard for a long time. He paused to
listen.
"...is a 'Special Medical Officer'?" asked the yeoman.
"Ah'm afraid Ah don't know. Ah was hoping someone here would be able
to tell me what is expected of a 'Special Medical Officer'," the soft
drawling voice replied. "Ah've never served on a stahship befo', and Ah
was hoping that ya'll had knowledge of such a post."
McCoy had his curiousity aroused considerably by this conversation,
and decided to check this matter out. He called for the yeoman. When she
entered his office she had a very strange look on her face.
"Dr. McCoy, there's a Dr. Grayson here; she's been assigned as
'Special Medical Officer', and I've never heard of a 'Special Medical
Officer'!"
"I've never heard of one either. Do you have her transfer tape?" The
yeoman silently handed it to him. He loaded it into his reader. He
entered codes as prompted. Suddenly he exploded. "Well, I'll be ---!
Those damn meddling ---!"
He sat glaring at the yeoman, who started backing up. "Uh, if you
don't need anything else, sir, I've got some work to do ..."
"Sorry, Hicks, I didn't mean to take it out on you. Send in this Dr.
Grayson, would you?"
She scooted quickly out of the office, to the accompaniment of his
grumbling about bureaucrats. Soon a Vulcan woman entered the office. She
was unusual looking for a Vulcan, as she was somewhat on the short side,
and had light colored eyes. Her hair, pulled back and up, was dark,
however.
He stared at her a moment. "You couldn't be Dr. Grayson!"
"Ah could, and Ah am," T'Kara answered softly.
McCoy shook his head. "Do you know Ambassador Sarek?" he demanded.
"Why does everyone want to know if Ah know him?" T'Kara asked
rhetorically. "Sarek is mah aunt's husband. And no, Ah didn't ask him to
pull strings to get me this post."
"That, and seeing you, explains a lot of your transfer orders." McCoy
eyed her warily.
"In what way, suh?"
"Are you aware that your Uncle Sarek wants a baby-sitter for his son
Spock? He's concerned that this - this falta - fal to -"
"Fal tor pan," supplied T'Kara.
"Yes, that. Sarek's concerned that Spock may have difficulty with it,
or its after-effects or whatever. It seems you've been elected his
babysitter."
"Ah rather thought of it as 'family spy', mahself," answered T'Kara
McCoy stared at her a moment, then threw back his head and laughed.
"You've a strange sense of humor for a Vulcan, Doctor."
"And Ah've got a strange complexion fo' a Human," replied T'Kara.
When McCoy was able to recover from his mirth, he managed to choke
out, "I've been meaning to ask you, where did you get that accent?"
"Probably the same place yo got yours," T'Kara replied. "Ah grew up in
Atlanta - on Earth, yes. Obviously, mah father is Human; he couldn't take
the Vulcan gravity and heat. So, he took mah mother and me with him back
to Earth. Ah spent just about mah whole life in the Atlanta area. Including
all mah Starfleet duty, at Atlanta Star Fleet Medical Center, under the
command of Jack Ryan, who incidentally sends his regards."
"All eighteen years of it? With Jack Ryan? You poor woman." McCoy
chortled to himself.
"Ah think he was afraid of me. Never was sure if Ah was going to do
some berserk Vulcan thing or other. Never could convince him that Ah knew
very little mo' about Vulcan than he did."
"A Vulcan not knowing of Vulcan? That's a little hard to take," McCoy
said.
"If yo had not been raised on Earth, would it be strange fo' yo not
to know much about Earth? Or look at it this way: Have yo ever been to
Cheyenne, Wyoming?"
"No, not to the best of my knowledge."
"Then, tell me all about it."
"But, I've never been there." McCoy was perplexed.
"But, yo are a Human. Yo must know all about everything on that
planet, don't yo?" T'Kara paused to let it sink in, then took pity. "See
what Ah mean? Ah'm probably mo Human because of mah surroundings than
Vulcan, but because Ah have pointy ears and green blood, Ah'm perceived to
be no-nonsense Vulcan. When Ah open mah mouth, all sorts of people get
upset."
"Yes, I can see that. Well, I can see that this ship will never be
quite the same with you aboard. Welcome, and good luck as our new 'Special
Medical Officer', whatever that may be!"
* * * * *
"Captain," Spock remarked to Kirk, as they entered the Officers'
Lounge, "I have received word that the last of our personnel have arrived
on board, and we will be able to leave port on schedule."
"Excellent, Spock," Kirk was pleased. Pleased about a lot of things
to be exact. He was pleased to be in command of a starship again. He was
pleased to have a crew he knew he could count on. He was pleased to have
... Enterprise.
True, there were small disappointments. He lost rank, but he never
liked the job that went with it. There were potential problems in two
members of his crew, but Sarek said he'd do something. Who knew what - but
he'd trusted Sarek before and wasn't about to stop now. And this wasn't
like either one of his Enterprises, but she was ... Enterprise.
His thoughts were interrupted by one of those problems cropping up.
Spock had spotted someone, and was - oh, damn! - swearing.
"T'Kara, how the hell are you?" Spock gleefully exclaimed.
The woman he had addressed, a Vulcan woman of indeterminate age,
looked up, saw Spock and - smiled? What was this universe coming to? Kirk
had an even bigger shock in store.
"Why, Spock, Ah'm just fine. How are yo?" The drawl took him
completely by surprise. Vulcans swearing, maybe even smiling, but ...
drawling? Kirk thought perhaps someone was playing an elaborate joke on
him. Then he saw his second problem ... McCoy was sitting with this
drawling Vulcan. Had his mind snapped and was he now taking to playing
practical jokes?
McCoy was speaking now. "... James Kirk. Jim, I'd like you to meet
our new 'Special Medical Officer', Dr. T'Kara Grayson."
"Pleased to meet you, Dr. Grayson. May I ask what a 'Special Medical
Officer' is?" Kirk had never heard the title either.
"Why, sho' Captain. It's a position that requires much patience,
observation and persistance." T'Kara gave Kirk a quizzical look, then
continued. "Ah suppose that it's just a fancy way of saying that Ah hold a
medical degree and Ah'm also a Vulcan healer."
Wait a minute! - Vulcan healer ... Medical degree ... Grayson ...
Kirk thought he had a possible third problem. "Do you know Sarek?" he
demanded.
McCoy started sniggering. Kirk knew he had a third problem.
"Ah'm afraid Ah do, suh. Spock and Ah are cousins."
Spock spoke up. "Her father and my mother are brother and sister."
When Kirk stared at him, he continued as though in explanation, "That makes
us cousins, sir."
"I am aware of what constitutes cousins, Spock." Kirk turned to
T'Kara. "I suppose he sent you, then."
"Well, not on his own. Ah think he called in a few favors." She
added, as she saw the look on his face, "Ah found out about it mahself just
two days ago, when Ah got mah transfer orders."
"And those are dated a week ago," added McCoy.
"Fine," snapped Kirk. His pleased mood was rapidly turning to a mood
that was less pleasing. A couple of senior officers that may or may not go
off the deep end on him, and Sarek sends him a Southern-fried Vulcan.
"Spock, if we are going to leave port on schedule, I believe that
there are things for us to do on the bridge." Kirk remarked pointedly.
"Indeed sir?" Spock replied. "I don't recall any - "
"Let's go to the bridge, Spock." Kirk turned to go, and Spock,
shrugging, followed.
"So, what do you think?" McCoy asked.
"Ah think he was not happy to see me," T'Kara replied.
"Spock?"
"No, Captain Kirk," said T'Kara with surprise.
"I meant 'what do you think of Spock'?" explained McCoy.
"Oh. Well, Ah think it's been a long time since Ah've seen him last,
but Ah don't recall him evah saying 'hell' befo'. Is it a recent addition
to his vocabulary?"
"Ah,... yes," replied McCoy somewhat reluctantly.
"And?" she prompted.
"And a number of other choice words. It seems that our Captain told
him that twentieth century language on Earth was peppered with it."
"It was. But what has that got to do with him swearin' up a blue
streak?" T'Kara was puzzled.
"Ah, they, that is, we, were in the twentieth century rescuing some
whales. Spock apparently was being too Vulcan and Jim told him to use the
colorful language to fit in. I think he overdid it."
"Well, he was, and probably to some extent still is, in a childlike
receptiveness to suggestions. A child particularly likes to do things that
are grown-up things. Or things that are normally frowned on. And
swearin' is both."
"Wonderful. I have a child-like Vulcan to deal with in the flesh,
and an adult Vulcan to deal with in my head." McCoy made a disgusted face.
T'Kara was instantly concerned, but did her best not to show it. "Ah
thought they were able to move all of Spock's katra from your head to his.
None of his being should be left behind."
"It's not so much his being, as it's his presence," McCoy replied
thoughtfully. "Maybe, well, a feeling that he is looking over my
shoulder."
"Why, Doctah, Ah would say that yo have a guilty conscience," teased
T'Kara, "if Ah didn't know what ya'll were talking about."
McCoy, somewhat taken aback, stared at her retreating back as she
left the lounge.
* * * * *
McCoy was having a bad day. First the yeoman spilled coffee - or
whatever it was that she drank - all over her desk and the floor. Then the
duty nurse came through and slipped in the mess. He yelled at them both
for being clumsy oafs, and stomped off to his office.
T'Kara noticed all this as she was getting herself settled into a
section of Sick Bay. The reaction from the nurse and yeoman told her that
this was probably not normal behavior for McCoy, and she told herself to
keep an especially close eye on him. She didn't have long to wait for her
suspicions to be confirmed.
A sudden loud crashing from the lab, followed by yelling interrupted
the quiet of Sick Bay.
"... has never been that way before! He dropped the flask himself,
and then he yelled at me!" The tech was telling her troubles to another
tech, who shook his head over the idiosyncracies of officers in general,
and this one in particular.
"Don't worry, Leslie. He's probably just preoccupied with getting
everything ready for this voyage. We haven't left dock yet, and we don't
have anything for him to do right now. That's probably all it is."
Leslie was dubious. "I've been around him when he didn't have any
patients or anything, and he's never yelled at me for something he did!"
T'Kara couldn't help overhearing the conversation, as they were only
a few steps from her work area. "Excuse me, Ah couldn't help but hear yo
discussin' some behavior yo found strange. May Ah ask a few questions?"
Leslie looked at her companion. He stared back, shrugged, and walked
back into the lab.
"Okay, what do you want to know?" Leslie was rather wary of the
strange Commander. It wasn't everyday that one encountered a Vulcan out of
the Deep South!
"How is this behavior different from what yo are used to?" T'Kara
asked.
"Well, usually he isn't clumsy in the first place, but if he does
break something or drop something, or whatever, he doesn't blame someone
else for it." Leslie tried to explain the situation.
"Ah assume yo are talking about Dr. McCoy. Ah was wonderin' if he was
always so cranky."
"Yes, that's who I'm talking about. And no, he's not usually cranky."
Leslie looked at T'Kara with a questioning look in her eyes. "You seem
awfully concerned about him. I mean, we all are, but you don't really know
him."
"Ah know. But if Ah'm goin' to work with him, Ah'd like to know what
to expect. And if he's not actin' normal-like, Ah need to know that, so Ah
don't take it as his usual behavior."
"I understand. No, he isn't acting normal. Also, he seems to be
flustered by the female personnel but not the male. Tommy - that's the
tech who was with me - can work with him just fine, but if I walk into the
lab, he drops something, or loses count or whatever, and then blows up at
me." Leslie thought a moment. "But the Edoan tech - Mriksa - doesn't seem
to fluster him at all."
Before T'Kara could ask another question, a loud explosion came from
the lab - figurative, not literal - and a nurse came running out. McCoy's
voice could be heard shouting, "... and don't ever sneak up on me again!"
The poor nurse was nearly in tears. Leslie put her arm around her
shoulders, and brought her over to T'Kara. "Jessie, what happened in
there? Commander Grayson here has noticed and seems to think that ... "
T'Kara interrupted. "Ah'm not thinkin' anythin' yet, but Ah am
concerned about his strange behavior."
Jessie stared at T'Kara. She turned to look at Leslie, her eyes open
wide. Leslie shrugged. "No, you're not dreaming, or hearing things. She
is Vulcan, and she does drawl. Go ahead. Tell her what happened."
"Well, I had called over the intercom to Dr. McCoy that a box had just
arrived from stores that he wanted. He told me to bring it into the lab.
When I got to the lab, I knocked, announced myself and walked in. Tommy
showed me where to put the box. I put it down, and then the next thing I
know, Dr. McCoy is screaming things at me that I don't want to repeat. I
got out of there as quick as I could."
"Ah understand. Ah would leave in a hurry, too. About all Ah can
tell yo is to stay away from him as well as yo can. Ah know that isn't
easy to do, but yo can try."
The two women stared at each other and then back to T'Kara. "Do you
know what's wrong with him?" asked Leslie.
"Ah have an idea of what may be wrong, but Ah can't be sure until Ah
see him mahself. Ah'm supposed to go with him this evening to the send-off
party. Ah should know for sure then." T'Kara looked at the two. "Just
remember what Ah said, and tell whoever else may be affected."
Jessie and Leslie nodded, looked at each other, and shrugged. "Sure.
We'll do what we can, and try to keep our distance. Thanks."
* * * * *
The crew was assembled for this last night's unrestricted merriment.
Kirk was telling his concerns to Montgomery Scott.
"I usually trust Sarak, but I'm not too sure about this green Scarlett
O'Hara that he's sent."
"Excuse me, sir," said Scott, perplexed, "but I dinna know who ye are
talking about."
"That 'Special Medical Officer' that arrived a couple of days ago.
She's a Vulcan --- with a Southern drawl!" Kirk sounded outraged.
"Well, sir, if I may say so, she's not the first non-Human to have a
uniquely Human accent that ye've encountered."
Kirk glared at him. He really didn't want to be reminded. He really
didn't.
"Well," Kirk conceded, "she is part Human. Her name is Grayson."
"Ah, well, then, Captain," Scott said, "that's all right, then. Ye
should relax and have a drink. This is what tonight is for, ye know."
Kirk could see he wasn't going to get any sympathy from his Chief
Engineer, so he declined. "Not right now, Scotty. I'll take a raincheck
on that." Kirk wandered away, Scott watching him with a bemused expression.
"Scotty!" A voice behind him made him start. "Do you mind if we join
you?" The voice belonged to Dr. McCoy, who had a Vulcan woman with him.
"Nay, join me, please," Scott invited, gesturing to the vacant chairs
at the table.
"Thank you," replied McCoy, and held a chair for his companion.
"T'Kara, I'd like you to meet our Miracle Worker of the Engine Room,
Montgomery Scott, Scotty for short. Scotty, this is our new 'Special
Medical Officer', T'Kara Grayson."
Scott had been at his scotch for a while, so he was not really
thinking. "Ach, ye must be that 'green Scarlett O'Hara' that the Captain
was talking about, now."
T'Kara looked over at McCoy, who shrugged. She thought he seemed to
be acting a little less strange. She wondered if he was taking something,
or just exercising great áontrol. "Ah hope yo will forgive me for pointin'
out that 'green' and 'scarlet' are quite opposite colors," she said to
Scott. "Ah would think that 'Verdant T'Kara' would be a bettah
discription." She leaned forward. "If yo have evah seen a Vulcan with a
sunburn, yo'd know that red is not what yo'd see."
"Aye, lassie, that I can see. Though," he continued thoughtfully, "I
canna say I've ever seen a sunburned Vulcan in me whole life."
"It is not a pretty sight," confided T'Kara. "Most Vulcans have an
inbred resistance to sunburn. But Ah, unfortunately have inherited mah
father's delicate skin. Ah sunburn somethin' awful."
McCoy shifted uneasily in his seat. T'Kara turned to look at him in
time to see him quickly look away. Just then, a woman with a friendly
smile came up to the table. "Will someone introduce us?" she asked.
"Certainly, Uhura," slurred Scott. "This is Verdant T'Kara. And
this is," gesturing, "Nyota Uhura."
"Is that what you're called?" asked Uhura.
"No, Ah just told Mr. Scott that when he told me that the Captain had
refered to me as a 'green Scarlett O'Hara'. Mah name is T'Kara Grayson."
Uhura's reaction was almost totally the opposite of everyone else's
who had heard her speak. "Grayson? Are you related to Charles Grayson? The
historic music lecturer, I mean."
"Yo've heard of him? He's mah father. He'd be so pleased to hear that
someone outside the music field knows who he is."
"I first attended a lecture of his when I was in school as a class
requirement. But ever since, if I'm in the same place that he's giving a
lecture, I try to make it a point to go. I love the music that he talks
about. Especially the late twenty-first century music."
"Mah favorites are from the early- to mid-twentieth century. There
was such a wide variety of styles, that at various times all merged
together and became something else." T'Kara gave a little laugh. "Yo
better watch out, or Ah'll start a lecture of mah own."
"Oh, I wouldn't mind," Uhura said. She glanced at McCoy and Scott,
who had gotten bored almost immediately, and were off in a discussion of
their own. "It seems though, that it is not a subject of universal
appeal."
"No, Ah would guess not." The two women got up, continuing their
discussion. T'Kara continued, "Yo see, the early twentieth century had
... "
"A right pretty lassie," observed Scott, "even if I canna make out
most of what she was saying."
McCoy nodded. "I think she might say the same thing about the way you
speak. I think," he continued, before Scott could protest, "I would like
another drink."
As McCoy was getting his refill, he heard the sound of an electronic
keyboard being set up for several synthesized instruments.
When he got back to the table, he discovered that Chekov and Sulu had
joined Scott. The soft sound of music filled the lounge area.
"Mr. Scott here told us about your new 'Special Medical Officer',"
said Sulu. "I take it she's a bit of a surprise?"
"Not if you're expecting a drawl out of a Vulcan," McCoy took a sip
from his drink.
"Drawl?" Chekov asked, in a horrified tone of voice. "You mean she
sounds like you?"
McCoy was saved from having to come up with some retort by the sudden
hush that greeted the start of an old blues song. He contented himself
with a glare in Chekov's direction.
When McCoy saw who was singing, he leaned toward Sulu. "Nor if you're
expecting a blues singer," he whispered.
Sulu whispered back, "She has a beautiful voice, though. And she's
not bad looking, either. I wonder if she's attached?" If he was startled
by the look that McCoy gave him, he gave no indication, but he noted it.
When the song ended, there was loud and enthusiastic applause.
T'Kara took it rather well, considering that she hadn't intended to
entertain. And of course, once she'd started, she wasn't going to be let
off without singing more. Uhura gladly helped out, especially when T'Kara
produced several scores from her quarters.
During a pause in the music, Scott caught McCoy staring into his
drink. "Wassa matter, laddie, are ye having a wee bit o' trouble wi' that
drink o' yourn?"
McCoy shook his head. "I ... don't think there's anything wrong with
the drink, and I don't feel drunk, but I just don't feel ... right."
"Ach, it must be that ye've not had enow to drink!" Scott was ready to
offer his medical opinion for a change.
"I don't think that's it at all. But I'm willing to try it!" McCoy
tossed off the rest of his drink, and got up to get a new one.
T'Kara had been trying to watch McCoy while she and Uhura were
singing, and had noticed his perplexed look into his drink and subsequent
trip for a refill. She also noticed that he refilled on a no-kick beverage.
She wasn't paying that much attention to what song Uhura had picked out.
"I'd like to hear you sing this one, T'Kara," Uhura said, passing the
lyric copy over to her. "I'll play the music."
T'Kara nodded and took the sheet from her. She glanced at it. A
Billie Holliday classic. She could handle that with a corner of her
attention reserved for McCoy.
"Ah don't know why, but Ah'm feelin' so sad
Ah long to try something Ah've never had
Never had no kissin'"
This was where she was used to either snickers, or an offer to kiss
her, but this audience was very respectful. However, she did catch McCoy
staring at her.
"Ooo, what Ah've been missin'
Lover man, oh, where can yo be
The night is cold and Ah'm so all alone
Ah'd give mah soul just to call yo mah own
Got a moon above me
But, there's no one to love me
Lover man, oh, where can yo be"
McCoy stopped staring at T'Kara, who was doing her best not to appear
to be staring at him. He started staring into his drink, instead.
"Ah've heard it said that the thrill of
romance can be
Like a heavenly dream
Ah go to bed with a prayer that yo'll
make love to me"
McCoy could feel himself flush, and was thankful for the darkened
room.
"Strange as it seems
Someday we'll meet and
yo'll dry all mah tears
And whisper sweet little things
in mah ears
Huggin' and a kissin'
Ooo, what Ah've been missin'
Lover man, oh, where can yo be?"
McCoy put his glass back on the table, abruptly stood up, and left.
This made his table companions all look at each other with mystified
expressions.
T'Kara finished off the song as quickly as she could, under the
circumstances. When she finished, she acknowledged the applause.
"Ah thank ya'll for yo kind attention. Ah need to take off now, but
I bet Uhura here will continue for yo." She left to groans of
disappointment, but quickly the voices died down as Uhura started another
song.
T'Kara left the lounge quickly, and went to Sick Bay, where she
expected to find McCoy. She was not disappointed. He was scanning a
number of medical tapes, apparently doing cross-reference on the spot.
"Dr. McCoy," she said softly, "Ah don't think yo will find what yo
are looking fo' in those tapes."
McCoy looked up sharply at her voice. He could feel himself flush as
he realized who it was.
"Oh, T'Kara! I wasn't expecting you," he said in a tone that implied
that he had hoped it would be her.
"Ah know." T'Kara moved a little nearer to him, across the lab bench
from him. She could feel the uncertainty, the fear, and the ... longing.
She didn't want to drop her mind shield any more than she had to before he
understood what was happening.
"Do you know what I'm looking for? And where to find it?" McCoy asked
desperately. He started around the lab bench toward her.
"Ah think Ah do. But yo will have to trust me."
McCoy had reached her by this time. Too late, T'Kara realized what
he was up to. As she tried to turn away, he grabbed her from behind.
"Doctah, do yo know what yo are doing?" T'Kara's voice was deceptively
soft.
"No ... I mean yes ... I mean ... I don't know." McCoy was confused.
He didn't let go. In fact, his grip tightened on her. "I know what I'm
doing, but I don't know why."
"Yo are hurting me," gasped T'Kara. McCoy loosened his grip, but
still didn't let go. "Bettah. Ah think Ah could talk to yo bettah about
this if yo let me go." With a visible effort, McCoy released his grip, and
dropped his hands to his sides.
"I'm sorry, T'Kara, I don't ... make a habit of grabbing women like
that." McCoy was very flustered.
"Ah know," replied T'Kara, moving to get the lab bench between them
again. "Ah know what yo are goin' through. But Ah think yo will not believe
it."
"Try me," insisted McCoy. "I'm willing to believe just about
anything - including a speculation that I'm in pon farr!"
T'Kara looked at him steadily. He looked back at her, with
realization slowly dawning on him. He shook his head.
"No, I couldn't be ... " his voice trailed off.
"Yes, yo are," confirmed T'Kara. At his incredulous look, she
continued. "Not the life-and-death kind, this one is only mental because of
the residual katra that yo carry. But it might as well not be, because if
yo don't do something about it, yo will wish yo were dead."
"You mean I have to go fight someone? I don't want to fight someone.
Not in this condition." McCoy had new appreciation of what T'Pring had put
Spock through all those years ago.
"No," replied T'Kara so quietly, that he had to strain to hear. "Yo
could find a suitable partner to help yo through it."
"A suitable partner? Help me through it? What is that supposed to
mean?" Suddenly, he realized the meaning of her words. "You mean partner
... as in mate?" T'Kara nodded. "Help me through it, as in ... mate?"
T'Kara nodded again. Her gaze met his levelly. His eyes asked and
she nodded once more. She turned and led him from Sick Bay.
* * * * *
T'Kara stretched languidly, nearly hitting McCoy in the face, who
batted her hand away playfully.
"Ah'm sorry, Ah didn't mean to ... " She never got to finish what she
had to say, as her mouth was covered by his.
"I'm glad you did," said McCoy once he stopped kissing her.
"What, hit yo in the face?" asked T'Kara.
"No, not that," he replied softly.
T'Kara changed the subject. "Yo know what Ah would like fo'
breakfast? An apple fritter."
"An apple fritter?" McCoy had trouble changing gears. "Why do you
want an apple fritter?"
"Because Ah'm hungry and Ah feel like eating an apple fritter." She
got up and crossed to the food processor.
McCoy hastily grabbed a sheet around him, and joined her at the
machine. "Um, could I have an apple fritter, too?"
T'Kara scanned the menu listing. "There doesn't seem to be an apple
fritter available through this thing." She continued scanning.
"Well, I'll settle for an apple dumpling." McCoy tried to nibble on
her ear. She leaned forward, maybe to avoid it, maybe to see more clearly
what was on the screen.
"Aha! They have it listed under 'fritter, apple' along with 'fritter,
corn'. Two apple fritters, comin' up." She punched out the codes for the
pastries, and soon the sweet, brown, glazed fritters were available for
breakfast.
As T'Kara turned to hand McCoy his fritter, she realized that he had
grabbed a sheet to cover himself, while she was in the altogether. She
shoved both fritters at him and ducked into the bathroom to the closet to
grab a robe. When she came out, he had the fritters on a tray on the bed,
along with a couple of cups of hot cocoa.
She loved hot cocoa.
McCoy patted the bed next to him. "Come over here, sit and have your
breakfast. It's just what the doctor ordered."
T'Kara quirked her eyebrow at him. "Ah know. It's just exactly what
Ah ordered."
"I added the hot cocoa. Apple fritters need hot cocoa. So come drink
yours before it becomes cold cocoa." McCoy wasn't going to let this
euphoria go. He felt so good.
T'Kara sat on the other side of the tray from McCoy. She picked up a
fritter and took a big bite. She made a face, and put the fritter down.
"They call that an apple fritter? Ah make better fritters than that, and Ah
can't cook!" She picked up a cup of cocoa and took a sip. "Well, at least
the cocoa tastes like cocoa. There isn't much that could be done to
chocolate, Ah guess."
McCoy was beginning to lose his feeling of euphoria. "Do you always
complain in the morning? Or is it just always?"
T'Kara was silent for a moment. She sipped some cocoa. "Under other
circumstances Ah'd be inclined to tell yo that Ah'm tryin' to let yo down
easy. But, Ah don't think yo'd believe me, because yo don't seem to be the
type that thinks yo have a claim on me fo' what happened last night."
"But I don't ... " started McCoy.
"But yo do," replied T'Kara. With a little smile, she touched her
finger to her forehead, and then to his. He could feel a tingle. "Yo do
have a claim on me, and Ah on yo." She shrugged apologetically. "The meld
was needed to be able to help yo."
She sipped some more cocoa. "Ah'm not comfortable with the kindness
and endearments that yo have been showin' and usin'. Ah do these things to
stop yo from doin' it." She looked at him. "Yo see, Ah do know what Ah'm
doin', even if it really is counter-productive. Ah really would like to be
loved and have someone to love, but with the way Ah act when someone is
nice to me, Ah'd be lucky to have ... Ah don't know ... a Deltan could
learn to hate me, real fast."
McCoy reached over and took T'Kara's cup from her hand and put it
back on the tray. He moved the tray to the floor and slid closer to
T'Kara. "No one could hate you, T'Kara. You have so much that you give of
yourself, freely, that you couldn't possibly be hated."
"But Ah don't, not really. Last night, fo' instance. Sarek was just
as concerned about yo, as he was about Spock. He wanted me to watch out fo'
yo, too. So Ah did."
He placed his hands on her shoulders. "But you didn't have to tell
me what was happening. And even if you did, you wouldn't have had to help
me the way you did, if you helped at all. No, T'Kara, you are a generous
spirit, even if you don't think so. I'm going to help you see that, even
if it means that I have to do this." He lifted her chin and kissed her.
After a moment of hesitation she put her arms around him and let herself
enjoy being kissed.
* * * * *
Later that morning, when T'Kara entered Sick Bay, she found Leslie and
Jessie waiting for her.
"Whatever it was you did, you did it right," said Leslie.
"Yes, he was sweet as pie," continued Jessie. "He's nicer than I've
seen him in a long time."
"What did you do?" Leslie asked, curiously.
"Ah'd say that was privileged information between doctah and patient,"
replied T'Kara, and would say no more despite pleas from them both.
Finally, they gave up, Leslie remarking to Jessie as they left, "I
bet it was some secret Vulcan ritual, and she doesn't want everyone to know
about it. That's probably it."
"What Vulcan ritual did you do to him, T'Kara?" asked a voice from
behind her.
She turned to see her cousin standing there, arms folded, head tilted
to the side, and a knowing look in his eye. She matched his posture,
gesture for gesture, and looked him straight in the eye.
"It was just biology, Spock. Just biology."
* * * * * * *