After his failed attempt to reach kohlinar, Spock found that the rhythms of life aboard the Enterprise were somehow different. He had reached a hard-won détente between his Human emotions and his Vulcan logic, and it cast a new light on even the most familiar of rituals – such as the one now playing out in Kirk’s quarters.
“So Bones – your birthday’s coming up...” Kirk opened this conversation just as he had every year about this time.
“I don’t want a big fuss,” said McCoy, with the same frown as usual.
“How about a little fuss then?” asked Kirk, the customary amused smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
“I suppose I could tolerate it, if I had to,” came the reply.
And so some small celebration would be agreed upon. A place and time would be chosen for a quiet round of drinks; Scotty, Chapel, Uhura, Sulu, and (now that was no longer “the kid”) Chekov would be invited; and they’d all spend a quiet evening getting mildly inebriated and swapping reminiscences. Spock would attend, of course. McCoy was his friend, after all.
But this year, Spock couldn’t shake the feeling that something special was in order – something to acknowlege the shift he sensed in his relationship with McCoy. He couldn’t really name the nature of that shift – it was different somehow to the way his other relationships had changed – but he felt a need to take some kind of action nonetheless.
He wanted to give McCoy a birthday present.
His mother had explained gift-giving to him when he was a child. She had provided him with an exhaustive lesson on the rituals and obligations involved, including a list of the types of gifts that would be considered appropriate to each occasion.
“But sometimes,” she said, “a person wants to give a gift from the heart – something that shows how much regard they have for another person. The best gifts on these occasions are something the recipient can experience. A happy memory is worth a thousand objects.”
Spock understood that these “little fusses” that Jim put together were exactly that – another in a collection of happy memories for McCoy. Spock wanted to give McCoy something like that.
The bulk of his meditation time was dedicated to solving the puzzle of how to do that.
He considered the activities that McCoy engaged in during his rare breaks from work. He spent the bulk of his time simply “hanging out” with Spock or Jim or Christine. He enjoyed reading a genre of books he called “dimestore trash” that Spock had no idea how to even begin to obtain. And he enjoyed music.
Music seemed promising. McCoy’s tastes were eclectic, but Spock had a good ear and he was reasonably certain that he could find something that would please McCoy.
It was in this frame of mind that he noticed the humming.
There was a little snippet of a tune that McCoy hummed when he was trying to unravel any particularly thorny problem. Spock had heard it hundreds of times when sharing laboratory space with McCoy. It had long ago been relegated to the background noises of the lab.
It was a pretty tune, and obviously a favorite. He asked Dr. Chapel about it that afternoon.
“You mean the one that goes hum de dum dum dum hum de dum dum dum?” She mangled it completely, but it was still recognizable as the same tune, if only barely.
“Yes,” said Spock. “Do you know the title of the piece?”
“Sorry, no. I asked him about it once. He got really self-conscious and said it was just something his mother used to sing. Then I didn’t hear it for about a month.”
Jim was no help. “I don’t spend much time in the lab,” he pointed out. “And his mom was some kind of music historian, so she probably knew a lot of obscure songs.”
Spock made a recording of himself playing the tune on his lyre and fed it into the ship’s computer, but it matched nothing in the database. Finally, he sent the recording to the library at Memory Alpha and waited.
The answer came almost fourteen hours later – a song from the mid-twentieth century, lost for nearly 200 years before it was discovered in an archive on the North American continent at a place called Muscle Shoals.
The tune was sweet, and the song was short. But the lyrics...
If Spock had searched for years, he couldn’t have found a song more suitable. He decided that the piece should be performed live.
“It’s beautiful, Spock. Where did you find it?” asked Uhura. “It’s just so… Dr. McCoy, isn’t it?”
“I believe it is a favorite of his,” said Spock. “I would like to play it at his birthday. I was hoping that you would agree to sing it.”
“I’d love to, but I think you should do it. It would fit your range.”
“My musical range, perhaps. It is a very emotional piece,” said Spock.
They practiced the song every night.
McCoy’s birthday was in the forward observation lounge. It was busy tonight, and when Spock picked up his lyre and Uhura stood next to him a hush fell over the crowd.
“If I needed you
Would you come to me,
Would you come to me,
And ease my pain?” sang Uhura.
“If you needed me,
I would come to you,
I’d swim the seas
For to ease your pain.”
“In the night forlorn
The morning’s born
And the morning shines
With the lights of love.”
Spock spared a glance toward McCoy, but Jim was seated between them, blocking his line of sight.
“You will miss sunrise
If you close your eyes
And that would break
My heart in two.”
Spock tried twice more to catch a glimpse of McCoy to no avail. It wasn’t until the final chorus that he saw him.
McCoy looked stunned, overcome, but with what emotion, Spock couldn’t tell. There were, however, most definitely tears in his eyes.
The song ended to enthusiastic applause and several people came to pay their compliments – mostly to Uhura. McCoy was among them. He took Uhura’s hand in his and said, “Thank you so much, Nyota. That was lovely.” He nodded toward Spock. “You played that… very well – as usual, Spock.” He raised his glass toward the others. “I want to thank y’all for coming tonight. I know the night’s still young, but I’m not so much, and I’ve just had a week and a half of long shifts. So if y’all’ll excuse me, I’m going to head on out and get some shut-eye before I have to deal with the next torn rotator cuff or targ bite or what-have-you.”
There followed the usual well-wishing and congratulations as McCoy left. Spock, feeling unsettled and having no desire to feel unsettled in public, picked up his lyre and retired to his own quarters…
… where he was surprised to find Dr. McCoy leaning against his desk.
“I used my medical code,” said McCoy. “I hope you don’t mind. I promise I’m not planning to make a habit of it.”
Spock nodded. “I apolo--”
“I’m sor--” McCoy shook his head. “You got nothing to be sorry for. Just… let me say my piece and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Thanks.” McCoy took a deep breath. “I… what you did tonight, Spock – that was the nicest, most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten. I couldn’t say this with a bunch of people around, but I need you to know what it meant to me.
“My mama used to sing me that song when I’d have bad dreams. She’d come sit on my bed and… stroke my hair… and sing that song. And it worked every time.
“She sang a lot of songs. She had a beautiful voice and she played guitar. She made a lot of recordings of those songs, and after she died, I’d play them all and pretend she was still there – just in the other room, singing. Well, I was just kid...
“Anyway she never got around to recording that one. So I’d sing it to myself when the bad dreams woke me up. I forgot most of the lyrics. I forgot what it sounded like when she sang it. I forgot what her fingers felt like in my hair. But it always made me feel better.
“I guess I got used to singing it. It was the tune I’d whistle in the dark, and it became the thing I turned to whenever the going got even a little rough.
“That’s what you gave me tonight. You gave me back her song. I don’t have words for that.” McCoy swiped at the tear that had fallen onto his cheek. “If you weren’t a Vulcan I’d hug you.”
Spock didn’t know what to say. He was experiencing a rush of emotions too powerful and too complex for him to even name, let alone express, not that he wished to express them. He didn’t even want to experience them.
“And on that note,” said McCoy, standing up, “I’ll just see myself out.”
McCoy had nearly reached the door when Spock put out his hand to stop him. He took him by the wrist, his fingers curling around the warm, soft skin above McCoy’s pulse.
The sensation cut through some of the turmoil in Spock’s mind. This was… good? It was… fitting.
It was right because Spock had wanted to touch McCoy, hadn’t he? He’d wanted to give a gift that would touch McCoy’s heart.
And now he was touching his skin and that was also what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?
He pulled McCoy closer, put his arms around him, held him. And holding was also what he’d wanted.
And then McCoy’s arms wrapped around his waist…
...and there. This is what it is to fit, thought Spock. This is what it is to be exactly where he belonged.
McCoy drew back a little, enough to look Spock in the eye. “You sure?”
Spock nodded. “I am now.”
Just a little note -- the song is “If I Needed You” by Townes Van Zandt. I’ve used it in fics before because it gives me serious Bones vibes. I actually had this scene in mind for one of those fics, but ended up using something else, so now you get it here.
vaporwave
gummygunk
annaxmalina
janainaart
