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Leonard had a lovely first day of shore leave, tooling around the small Quatenea town. He got a coffee-like drink in the morning and a soft pastry. It was so good he bought a few more for later. He visited the local sights and struck up a conversation with a local couple. They were old and sweet and told him he had to get down to see the lake before it froze. He hiked his scarf a little higher and said he’d think about it. They said it was the perfect place to take your loved one. He pulled his hat a little lower and said he really would think about it.
The rest of his day passed in a blur. He kept thinking about the lake, and about Spock. He wished they were spending their shore leave together, but he’d gone and screwed that up. They’d only managed to date for three months–three glorious, amazing, loving months–before he’d gotten so scared out of his mind that he’d intentionally torpedoed the relationship. It felt easier to destroy it upfront, to drive Spock away before Spock could chose to leave him, than to wait and hope Spock would remain tricked into loving him.
Only now, Spock wouldn’t speak to him at all. Even their professional relationship on the Enterprise was strained.
Leonard went back to the little hostel he was staying in and curled up on the bed, sadly eating one of the now-cold pastries. He had just dozed off into an uneasy sleep when his communicator beeped.
With a groan, he rolled over and picked it up. “McCoy here.”
“Bones!” Jim sounded a bit tipsy. “How’s the vacation going?”
“Just great,” he grumbled. “Jim, is there something you need? I was just about to go to sleep.”
“Oh, sorry. Actually, yes there is. Listen, I just got a call from Spock—” Leonard looked toward the ceiling for deliverance. “He’s not liking the weather down there too much.”
“I should think not. It’s about thirty degrees colder than Vulcan ever gets.”
“Yeah. He just called for a beam-up, saying he can’t sleep. But Bones, this is the first time I’ve ever gotten him to take a vacation! I can’t let him give up until he’s really relaxed.”
Leonard sighed. It was true that Jim had been working Spock for months to get him to agree to a little rest and relaxation. “Fine. How does that involve me?”
“I know you, Bones. You’ve probably got something up your sleeve that will make it easier for him to bear the cold.”
“I’ve got a bottle of bourbon in my suitcase.”
“Besides that.”
Leonard sighed and thought back to what he had packed. At the time, he hadn’t questioned why he was packing the Lauder-0B that could be used to bear the cold, but now he wondered if he had been subconsciously hoping that Spock would call. Maybe Jim was the next best thing.
“I’ve got something. I’ll set it out and you can beam it to him.”
“Er, maybe you should go. Then you can explain why vacations are so important.”
Of course, Jim didn’t know what his CMO and First Officer were in such a snit. They hadn’t shared with him that they were dating. At the time, it had felt so new. Now Leonard wished Jim had known, so he would know not to ask this. But the thought of explaining it all to Jim was too much to bear, so he just said, “Tell me the address.”
A few minutes later he loaded his medkit into this planet’s version of a taxi cab. A gentle, wet snow had begun to fall, and the flakes stuck to his eyelashes and clung to his winter clothes. The driver took him out of town and into the nearby forest, where Leonard knew some of the crew were staying in cabins. Spock must have chosen the location for its distance from potential distractions. Maybe he was meditating before a roaring fire, hands soft and relaxed on his knees, eyes closed in contemplation. Spock had never felt comfortable enough to mediate in front of him while they had dated. He could only imagine what he would look like.
The snow was thickening when they finally arrived. He tipped the driver with his Federation card and walked up to the lonely cabin as the cab skidded off, kicking up wet snow that was now drifting along the road and against the walls. The windows were dark and it was utterly silent save for the rough skrk skrk skrk of his boots in the snow. He hesitated at the door, thinking that perhaps Spock was asleep and he shouldn’t knock.
The thought of Spock, with only a blanket against the cold, spurred him on.
He knocked and it took only a moment for a light to come on, weak and yellow, and then Spock opened the door.
Leonard’s heart nearly broke at the sight of him. He was tall and beautiful and somber, just as he always had been. He had a blanket around his shoulder and his knit hat pulled tight over his ears. Leonard struggled a moment, warring with the apology that was on the tip of his tongue.
“Jim said you were cold,” he said instead of what he really wanted to say, which was I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.
Spock tipped his head to the side. “He was not wrong.”
“I brought something that will help.” He lifted his medbag and waggled it.
Spock’s eyes fell to the bag, and then lifted back to meet Leonard’s gaze. He stared at him intently as Leonard tried to appear as professional as possible. After a protracted moment Spock stepped back and lifted an arm.
Leonard took the invitation and stepped inside, eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he realized that it was nearly as cold in the cabin as it was outside. He still knocked the snow off his boots as Spock closed the door. He looked around and saw the fireplace was cold, although the ground seemed warm. Likely the cabin had in-floor heating that couldn’t keep up with the rapidly dropping temperature. His breath was misty as he took stock of the place: the table with two chairs, a narrow loveseat with another squat table by it, and a bed in the corner with a lamp over it and the covers turned down. The lamp was the only light. He really had caught Spock sleeping.
He frowned. “Jesus, Spock.” He dropped his bag on the table. “Why didn’t you start a fire?”
“I neglected to bring a phaser.”
Leonard looked back at him, incredulous. But Spock merely gazed at him flatly. “Here, sit down for a second and let me look at you.”
Spock obeyed easily enough, sitting at the table and looking up at Leonard from beneath his long eyelashes.
Leonard gulped down his apology again and took out his scanner. He didn’t like what it told him. Spock was chilled to the bone, and unfortunately for him Vulcans didn’t even have a shiver response. Vulcans were notoriously poor at regulating body temperatures, as their bodies kept blood pumping to their extremities even in the face of bitter hypothermia. That meant his internal organs were just as cold as the rest of him. Too much of this and he would get sick.
“This will help your blood regulate your temperature better.” He injected Spock in the neck, the only visible part of him. He set the hypo down and considered a moment. “I’m not liking what I’m seeing, Spock. I think we should get you back up to the ship, just to be on the safe side.”
Spock blinked slowly at him. “That was my original suggestion to the Captain.”
Leonard took out his communicator and flipped it open. It let out a sad squawk in response. Frowning, he fiddled with it, and then gave it to Spock who tucked it under his blanket. Leonard could see him moving it around, but it still refused to connect to the ship.
“Attempt to contact the ship with my communicator.” Spock nodded towards the loveseat and table.
That also proved to be a failure. A peek out the window told him why: the storm was really raging now, absolutely thick with driving snow. He couldn’t see an inch outside the window.
“Well,” he said. “Looks like we’re stuck here for now. Go crawl back in bed and I’ll get a fire going.”
Spock stood. “I will assist you, Doctor.”
“No, you won’t,” he grumbled. “Get in bed. That’s an order.”
Spock didn’t try to argue with him a second time, which really just showed how cold he must have been. Leonard made sure he was tucked in and then wrapped his scarf tight around his face and stepped out into the blizzard.
The wood was stacked just a few yards from the cabin. He’d seen it when he’d walked in. But now it seemed unduly far away, an impossibly arduous distance to traverse. Leonard leaned into the wind and gathered up an armful of the heavy, musty wood. It took him a few trips to get a nice little pile going on inside, and by that time he was sweaty with exertion. He stripped off his boots and jacket and found a little hatchet looking thing.
He could feel Spock watching him make kindling.
“Don’t worry, I won’t lose a finger.”
“Indeed. You appear to be quite adept at this skill.”
“I spent a few winters up north with Jocelyn’s family before…” He trailed off, collecting himself. He felt stupid for having said anything. “Anyway, this will only take a moment.”
Spock hummed.
It took longer than a moment to figure out how to light the damn thing, and there was a brief instant of panic before he figured out how to open the damper to the chimney, but soon there was a tiny flame. He fed it more wood until it was crackling and hot. He stripped of his outer sweater and stood with his hands on his hips, pleased at his handy work.
He turned, grinning, only to have his smile fall at the look on Spock’s face.
Spock was contemplative, curled up under the blankets. But he had sat up on the edge of the bed, socked toes barely brushing against the wooden floor, and was eyeing Leonard heatedly. His gazed trailed over Leonard’s body and then locked on to him. Leonard gulped.
“Doctor,” Spock said, and then hesitated. “Leonard,” he said more confidently, and Leonard felt his heart catch in his chest. “I am uncertain how to proceed.”
Leonard let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “So am I.”
“I believe I should apologize.”
“No! Spock, no. You have nothing to apologize for.” He was across the room before he knew he was moving, and he threw himself to the ground at Spock’s feet. “I said things no one should ever say. I was completely stupid and I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you.”
Spock held very still. “As a Vulcan, I do not feel hurt.”
Leonard looked up at him, heart clenched tight with anxiety. Spock’s features were too flat and too vacant. “Spock,” he said softly.
For a moment, Spock seemed to crumble. His face fell and he closed his eyes, taking a long deep breath. When he opened his eyes again he looked down at Leonard, seeming very sad and very lonely. “Leonard, I am cold.”
“Spock, I—”
“You are not forgiven,” Spock said quickly, and then his features softened. “Yet.”
Leonard’s heart soared. He scrambled up as Spock opened his arms, letting him in under the blanket. Leonard held him tight, his face buried in Spock’s cold neck.
“I was afraid,” he said.
“I am aware, Leonard.”
“I wasn’t sure—”
“I know. It does not excuse your actions, but it does explain them.” Spock sighed softly. “Please, promise that if your fears grip you again that you will speak with me instead of allowing them to control your actions.”
“I’ll do whatever I can,” he said, and then Spock’s words clicked in his head. He pulled back, frowning down at Spock. “Wait, does that mean…?”
“I said I was cold, Leonard. Will you lie here with me and admire your fire?”
Leonard stared, eyes wide, until Spock’s eyebrow twitched upward.
“You are letting out the heat,” Spock said. He tugged Leonard down and arranged them on the narrow bed, tucking his cold hands against Leonard’s stomach. Their legs entangled as Leonard’s heart beat up into his throat. “Is this acceptable?” Spock whispered.
“More than.” Leonard hesitated before leaning in, pressing their foreheads together. “…Are you still cold?”
“Mm, it has abated.”
“Good.” He curled more closely. The heat of the fire was beginning to permeate the room. He watched Spock’s eyes slide shut, listened to his gentle sigh of relief. He bit at his lip and contemplated kissing him, but he held back.
Instead, he watched Spock slip into a gentle, warm sleep as the blizzard raged around them, snowing them in.
Tomorrow they would not be able to leave through the snow drifts. But tomorrow, they would find no real reason to leave anyway, for the cabin would be warm and Spock’s hands would be warmer, and a kiss and gentle word would be all the entertainment they would need. It would be several days before the snow would melt enough for them to put on their boots and thick scarves and hike out to the frozen lake, gloved hands held together.