Spock awoke hearing the hum of the starship. It reminded the well aged Vulcan of the USS Enterprise. And of his days on the USS Endeavor. And the USS Deforest. His vision was at first blurry adjusting his vision to the scenery. Spock realized he had his arms wrapped around McCoy rather the other way around. McCoy was softly snoring. Why were they together, in the same bed, in what is most recognizably a couch-bed in the den instead of the bedroom? He recognized the scenery as a star fleets officer quarters. The room was decorated in less dark colors but friendly items to the eye. Spock slipped his hands out from around McCoy's side. Spock noticed the room had additional parts that were roughly installed into a 23rd century room. The out of place technological installments were 24th century. Spock remembered the earliest version of the laundry machine being a rounded hole in the wall and it silently would wash and dry the clothes. Spock saw a machine that roughly looked like one he had used commonly on starships during his time as Ambassador. Spock carefully made his way off the bed with a creak. Spock felt cold but not freezing ass cold. He had became used to this temperature in the passing years. Spock heard his stomach growl. Spock made his way toward the device.

"Vulcan green tea, hot." Spock said, in front of the machine. There was only a, "Please repeat." reply from the machine. "Vulcan green tea."

"Spock, what are you doin'?" McCoy's voice came from behind Spock at the bed.

"I am attempting to . . make the . . . " Spock started. He couldn't pinpoint the word. He frowned. He should know the word. How could he forget that? "To make the. . ."

"Replicator." McCoy finished.

"Yes, that," Spock said. "Make that work." He looked over his shoulder in the direction of the human who had his elbow against the sheet and one hand on the side of his face idly gazing at the Vulcan tapping his fingers on the blue sheet. "It has not been making what I wanted."

McCoy was silent. If McCoy were panicked, the vulcan would never know, or if he were terrified the Vulcan wouldn't know it. McCoy was wearing his best, and well practiced poker face. McCoy was internally screaming at the unfair degrading of the hybrid. It was miserable to see Spock falling apart. True, he did one time say that some suffering was good. But not for Spock. Vulcans were never not to degrade this way. They were, far as McCoy knew, preferring to degrade at home during the rare neurological disease of Bendii's. He hadn't expected Spock to forget the name of a basic machine. McCoy cleared his throat.

"Spock. . . That is the laundry dispenser." McCoy said.

"Oh." Spock said. "Why are we on a starship vessel?"

"Because we are payin' a visit to your daughter," McCoy said. Spock raised his right, gray thin slanted eyebrow. "Not at fortnight, though, you said so yourself you rather get there when she is awake." And he was lying through his teeth at the last part. "Because you are considerin' to brin' important news---stop looking at me like that!"

"I am wondering if I am informing my daughter regarding our growing relationship." Spock said.

McCoy could feel his cheeks become hot.

"It's never about me," McCoy paused. "Well, then again, it is for once." McCoy leaned upward with a yawn from the sheet. "You are goin' to inform T'Erin of your katra keeper choice." He waved his hand. "As yours truly, I recommend you take a well earned sonic shower."

"Logical." Spock said, then heading in the direction of the hall.

McCoy slid his hands down his face then rubbed the side of his temples. What the hell am I doin' this for?, McCoy wondered, right. . . to help Spock. McCoy saw the bundle of clothes on the floor and on the chair. McCoy got up feeling his knees were all ready throbbing. He picked up the clothes then dumped the clothes into the laundry dispenser. McCoy stopped there, wondering if they still had the old fashioned uniforms in the drawers. That is they had not refurnished with different uniforms. McCoy put the cleaned attire onto the chair then came into the bedroom. The closet door opened before the man to show command blue staring right back at him with lieutenant insignias on the sleeve. McCoy reached his hand out toward the sleeve then felt it. His fingers rubbed against the blue and golden fabric, gently.

McCoy remembered his dream to help people. It is what in part pushed McCoy into space despite his fear of space and flying. Aviophoboia, never a good thing, is a part that McCoy overcame to get away from his old life with Jocelyn. He loved his daughter, Joanna, dearly, but Jocelyn and he had parted on bad terms. McCoy was so focused on helping others that he neglected his family. Jocelyn should have known that when she married him. McCoy had been planning back then to divorce her until she did the unthinkable. She cheated on him with another man. She was the one who dug him through a grizzly divorce. The day after the divorce was finalized, McCoy found himself at a bar drinking. He overheard a group of women excitedly chatting about Star Fleet and how it would be entirely new but refreshing to be far from home in space. He wanted to be far away as he could from Jocelyn. So that day a drunken McCoy took what belongings he had and joined the recruit shuttle along with who he would later call a fr iend: Geoffrey M'Benga. McCoy's pinkie finger still held that ring. It was his mothers wedding ring.

He looked down to see a neatly row of socks, pants, and boots. There was also black regulation shirts. McCoy used to imagine himself as a doctor in sick bay during his days at the academy. By the side of his patient ensuring they were breathing, their heart was still beating, and their temperature was at the right temperature. McCoy didn't trust the fancy dancy federation machines. It was good old fashioned country work that worked for McCoy. Going through paddwork of his other patients. It is what got him through studying. The grilling hour going through the tests and participating in the exams. He saw some cadets who were younger than him. And people his age attending class. He bunked with a young Andorian majoring in communications for four years. Xenobiology was a otherwise fascinating and intriguing subject. He learned about Vulcan physiology, Andorian, and a number of others. The Vulcan culture class gave him a lot of insight regarding them. He had a fresh perspective that they were very secretive and acted more so of a computer when it came to day to day activites: logically. He must have heard that word one thousand times. Some of what he learned in class that day had become forgotten. But Vulcan kissing was what McCoy hadn't forgotten.

McCoy could hear Spock whistling coming out of the restroom. McCoy looked over to see Spock's genitalia pointed upwards, a bright shade of green, stood out toward. He could see the snake like fra'l curled up against the genitalia. McCoy felt experienced a warm feeling rising up toward his brain and it made his cheeks redden. McCoy rubbed the bridge of his nose. Why was he getting aroused by seeing Spock's bright green genitelia? It was wrong to be aroused given that he is degrading. Possibly permanent damage. What was he thinking last night? That he may not make it on time. Spock might revert to the way he was before McCoy came into his life. He recalled that Spock hadn't voiced a regret he had in the recent days. McCoy stepped back letting the doors close on their own. There was a advantage to the memory loss. Spock would not remember the emotional outburst he had with S'Chess. McCoy trusted that Spock's memory would return when he saw Erin, his daughter,assumingly so that he wouldn't have to lie again about why they were here. McCoy started to suspect that he would be lying to Spock often during this trip if his memory became worse. McCoy came out of the room through the doorway to see Spock sitting down on a chair appearing to be confused. The bed reclined back into the form of a couch with cushions.

"Doctor," Spock said. "Why do we wear lounging wear that looks alike?"

McCoy came over.

"Ah, shit." McCoy said, seeing the bundle of clothes on the man's lap.

"Shit, indeed." Spock agreed.

"I didn't just turn you into a swear machine." McCoy said, in horror.

"Fuck." Spock brought the pink slippers close to the side of the chair. "Fuckity fuck, shitty, titty--"

"--Spock!" McCoy said.

"Dumbass." Spock said. "I feel rather better saying that out loud." Spock was really grinning at the doctor. "I did not bother to learn more of my mothers culture in the first place. I have been left out of so many things." Spock held up a shirt that seemed too small for him. "I believe this is yours." He handed the shirt to the doctor, their fingers touching, a sharp jolt of a warm sensation. He could heard the doctors thoughts, "Damn right it is mine." Which earned a small smile on the Vulcan's face. "And now to your pants." The Vulcan turned his attention away toward the two pants and one medium sized shirt. "Maybe this is yours. . ." He lifted the pants up tilting his head. "No, this is mine." He placed it on the table then his free hand felt a flat surface on the second pair of pants. Spock held out the pants over his shoulder. "This is yours."

McCoy snatched the pair.

This time their fingers didn't touch.

"Thank you." McCoy said, then he came over to the forcibly installed replicator. "Vulcan green tea, hot." He held his hand out for the handle the blue light outlined the shape. Within a minute his fingers were wrapped around the cup. He brought the tea cup over to the Ambassador. "I heard Vulcan green tea is equivalent to sweet tea."

Spock took the tea cup.

"That is a valid comparison," Spock said. "It usually helps in waking us up or relaxing us."

McCoy picked up his attire and slippers.

"Excuse me," McCoy said. "I have a sonic shower to take."

Spock watched the doctor head into the quarters than vanish into the side of the room. He took a sip of the tea. What sent him forward on this quest? To merely tell his daughter what isn't her business. Sure he must have come to a logical conclusion after arguing with himself, which did happen with his human half and his vulcan half. Someone else had to be there in order to encourage him to go. He must have admitted his less than professional feelings toward the doctor. It was logical. Jim probably was thrilled after waking up regarding the news. Spock put the tea on the table. He put on his shirt then his boxers briefs and next his pants. Spock slipped on the slippers. Through the doors came in a young muscular man in a uniform that did not match the one usually worn on the starship. He was joined by a female beastazoid. Spock stood up from the chair then approached the two.

"Greetings, Ambassador," Byanne said. Spock's hands became locked behind his back, a military pose, which McCoy mimicked as well. "I trust that you and the admiral are prepared for thet trip."

"I got the rin' prepared for the trip back." McCoy said,patting the side of his right pocket. "Just need to be turned on after we make our third beam out."

"Please inform Mister Scott that we will not be in the supply route from now on." Byanne said. "This is our chief security officer." She gestured toward the man. "Mr Green." Spock observed the man. He looked familiar. Where had he seen that face before? He knew someone named Green back at Aura. Wasn't he a former admiral or captain. "He is our. . ."

"Are you related to Joseph Green?" Spock inquired.

"Personalized android." Byanne finished.

"Negative, Ambassador," Green said. "I do get that question sixty-five point thirty-two percent of my time when infiltrating star fleet."

"Infiltrating?" McCoy repeated. "Now why. . ." Spock appeared to be intrigued. "Don't I like that word."

"Rest assured, Admiral McCoy,they were for noble purposes." Green said.

"Mister Green, you barely look anything of an android." Spock said.

"Just as worse as a Vulcan." McCoy.

"The android I knew is more. ." Spock stopped.

"Blatant." Green finished.

"Indeed." Spock said, with a nod.

"I was created twenty-three years, four months, and three weeks ago." Green said. "I am largely uncomfortable with having emotions." McCoy was listening to Byanne's explaination with his arms folded and a disgruntled look on his face. "I was created to be the ideal lifetime companion for the Ferengi child."

"I take it the Ferengi child grew up." Spock said.

"Negative," Green said. "He was killed by Section 31 during a raid. He was thirteen years old." He spoke with such calmality. "I was in recharge mode. I witnessed the raid. I later found out the father was part of planning terror. My creator, boy just then, would never have followed his fathers footsteps. He was a maleviolent, young innocent adolescent."

"I grieve with thee." Spock said.

"No need," Green said. "I killed them all using their own mission against them."

"You framed them." Spock said.

"Essentially. It was rather easy." Green said. "I deactivated my emotional programming for it."

"No one should have gone through what you did." Spock said.

"That is . . a fair assessment." Green said. "And I did what I was built to do for the next twenty-three years."

"Which is?" Spock asked.

"Being the lifetime companion of a Zoologist I may never see again," Green said. "But I will move on."

Spock's eyes saddened, briefly, with pity toward the android.

"Do you have a first name?" Spock said.

"You would not be able to pronounce it." Green said.

"Try me." Spock offered him.

"S'eke'lei'ur'grien." Green said.

"How many tongues do you have?" Spock asked, with a raised slanted eyebrow.

"As my creator joked: two." Green said.

"No wonder he called you green." Spock said, lowering the eyebrow.

"It is a no brainer." Green said. "I do like to take care of the plant life."

"You have achieved what . . some vulcans.. . would wish to have," Spock said. "Consider yourself one of the fortunate."

"I do," Green said. "Every day."

Byanne sighed.

"Admiral," Byanne said. "Your concern for pretending to be a star fleet officer is well founded but what we did was out of necessity." She looked over toward Spock who seemed to be admiring Green. Then she looked over toward the doctor. "You must be duly informed that we will not be giving you the return trip."

"Scotty expected that," McCoy said. "Told me this rin' can get you to anywhere with the right commands in the process of bein' beamed. It is complex, and sophisticated." McCoy seemed to be not at all convinced by what he was mentioning. "Beamed out into space? No problem. If it catches a exact familiar DNA pattern, it'll send you there. . . Now how lon' it takes for that to happen is a different story."

"A transport ring?" Byanne said,tilting her head. "But that is supposed to have been outlawed due to its glitches." Sure she had seen the ring for herself at the conference room, but it was only just a ring she had assured herself. It had numerous glitches that resulted in defiguring, death, and some of the experimentee's were turned into holoprograms complete with their brain anagrams intact. "Did he warn you about it?"

McCoy bounced.

"Can't say he did." McCoy said, then he looked over toward Spock

"If he did," Spock said. "I would have insisted we not use it. If he did."

McCoy looked over in the direction of Byanne.

"Do you have a mess hall by any chance?" McCoy asked.

"Of course." Byanne said. "There is three hours until we reach the destination you two seek."

McCoy appeared to be pleased.

"That's the best news I heard since this all started." McCoy said, wrapping one arm around Spock's arm. "Don't you agree, Ambassador?"

"It has been a long time since I had been in a mess hall on a starship from 2260's," Spock said. "I have never gone on a date before."

"I'll get that Vulcan green tea," McCoy said, then he came back with the tea and handed it to the Vulcan. "Commander," Spock took a sip from the warm cup. "It's been a lon' time since we last served on a vessel like this. . . can you help us to the mess hall by any chance?"

Byanne smiled.

"Actually," Byanne said. "That's Mister Green's task."