Love is Illogical ; Spock

Chapter 44

'I'm hungover' is the first thing that rushes through my head when I began to wake up, the second thing is apparently a hammer because that's what this pounding headache feels like. 'Most definitely hungover.'

This is why you don't drink, I reminded myself. You drink because the after effects are never worth the night of 'fun', that and the fact I categorically cannot handle intoxicating substances.

I knew it was time to get up out of bed and make the most of my day off by catching up on paperwork or perhaps reading I tot eh latest advances in medical technology and rea search but the bed was just so comfortable and extremely warm and the idea of opens in my eyes and facing any light was abhorrent to me so I turned onto my other side and settled back down to sleep.

That's when I noticed the arm around me. I was slowly beginning to recall last night and how I ended up in this situation but I wasn't sure if I wanted to open my eyes and confirm it just yet. I was being illogical, my refusal to open my eyes and face the situation at hand wasn't going to change it, it would simply postpone the inevitable which wouldn't do so I snapped open my eyes and was greeted with the sleeping face of Dr Leonard McCoy who looked rather peaceful in his sleep.

I leave someone for their own good and suddenly someone, even more human moves in? What is it with these people and their illogicality?

However, with that said the feeling of regret weren't hitting me the way they were supposed to. I was supposed to jump up out of bed scandalised that the night had ever happened, profess it was because of my drunk state and it was never to happen again, wasn't I? Only I felt rather content at the moment. I'd enjoy snuggling back into his warm arms, lying in his rather comfortable bed, talking when he woke up. It would be stupid however. He's human first of all and as a member of an endangered species I should be looking to procreate with Vulcans to ensure the continued longevity of my race. Second of all, as much as I was fond of Bones, and believe me I was to an inappropriate degree where I had began to question my intentions a few times around the man, I could never give him what he wanted. Bones was human through and through, he acted on emotion, he endured happy and sad with passion and his love was even fiercer and then there was me, desperately trying to repress any sense of emotion in favour of logic.

A molecular orbital is a region in space between the nuclei where there is a high probability of finding electrons. It is formed by the overlap of atomic orbitals. This I tried to reason with myself, chemistry has logic, it has set rules I can follow and I will get the outcome I want, life will flow the way it's supposed to. Emotions are volatile, wrong, cloud judgment.

I was dragged out of my thoughts by the moving and grumbling of Bones as he woke up and wihhdrew his arm from me stretching it above him.

"Oh." He said simply as he turned over and faced me as I stared at him blankly. "I thought that must have been a dream."
"You thought that us sleeping together was a dream?"
"Not a dream then?"
"Not a dream." I stated.
"Lights at 30%!" He yelled and the lights flashed a dim glow across the room causing me to burrow I into the sheets.
"Someone can't deal with a hangover." he laughs, fumbling on the bedside table for medicine. "I would offer but it wouldn't work for you." he shrugged.
"How do Vulcans deal with hangovers?"
"Meditate probably."

Why is everyone so loud? Mentally I mean, not vocally. My sensitivity to other peoples feelings seemed to grow with my headache making it impossible to meditate. How was I supposed to purge myself of feelings if I couldn't escape everyone else's?

"Raiding the medicine cabinet I see." Christine commented walking in as I was indeed, raiding the medical supply store. "What are you trying to do? Cook meth?"
"Something like that." I shrugged.
"Now I need a bit of an explanation." She laughed.
Turning to face her, my arms full of an assortment of pill boxes and medicine bottles "I'm trying to engineer a cure for a hang over. Well a Vulcan hangover."
"Well you go have fun cooking your meth then." She laughed grabbing a box and walking away.

"Are you seriously going to drink that?" The ensign said, raising their eyebrows.
"Why would I not?"
"Well for starters you've melted down all kinds of crap, added in various elements, heat it up and now your going to drink it." They said, rolling their eyes.
"When you put it like that it sounds illogical." I said, putting down the beaker.
"Yeah, you need to go back to bed. It's your day off, use it to sleep or sine thing equally as unproductive."

"How's the headache?" Uhura asked, flipping down next to me on the bed.
"Unimportant." I mumbled.
"What are you doing?" She questioned.
"Closing the breach." I shrugged, focusing on the screen.
"What?" She said, confused.
"I'm playing 21st century RPGs set in the presumably fabricated world of theadas."I elaborated, pausing the game as she wasn't relenting.
"Is that not illogical or something?"
"It requires strategy, reflection and political know how, so no, it's not illogical." I said, justifying my actions.
"I never took you for a gamer." Age laughed, surprised.
"I'm not."
"Well then what are you doing?" She asked.
"Closing the breach." I repeated.
"Are you playing an elf?" Uhura asked. "Oh my god she's playing an elf." She said bursting out laughing.
"What's wrong with the elfs?" I defended
"Nothing, nothing." She said, resuming her staring as I unpaused the game.
"You're slightly off putting." I commented.
"What ever." Uhura laughed. "Let me help with this."