( Spock meanwhile walks throughout the room, slowly and without hurry. Now freed of the futile flailings from one liquored up Lieutenant, the room itself was rather... serene, tranquil. The sound of fluctuating waters had a calming effect. It brought to mind late evening meditations beneath the heated weather of his desert planet.

Vulcan. A planet he would never see again except in holograms or vids. It was still a fresh wound and one he surmised might never heal properly. Spock kneels beside one of the pools and moves his fingers along the surface of the heated pool. He felt the temperature more strongly than humans, as the nerves of his hands were more sensitive, and yet it is not an uncomfortable sensation.

He stands and his gaze naturally falls upon the puddle of vomit left behind. An idea occurs to him and he brings out his communicator once more. This time when he speaks, he steps outside onto the balcony, closing the door behind him. )

I require a favor, Bones. Do you have anything medicinal for someone who has indulged too much? ... Yes of course I will wait while you check. This is not an emergency...

( It afforded him to find comfort in the bright moon and stars of this planet and breathe in the cool autumn air. )