> Leave the bourbon on the shelf [Bones | Open]
[It had been a disconcerting experience, carrying the soul of that pointy eared-bastard inside him, having him prod and poke around in his head while he charged forward to play martyr for all of Shtel Nor. The scene had replayed itself endlessly in his head; but at least it was only his perspective now instead of the stereo visage that had plagued his mindset until they figured out what had happened.
Harbouring a katra, it turned out, was no leisurely task.
But now Spock was awake again and being as stubborn as ever, but McCoy was still troubled from his actions under the influence of a Vulcan mind meld. Good God, just how many people did he frighten with that Vulcan routine? Damn that bastard for putting all of them through hell.
Instead of one of the Sickbays, he found himself pacing the gardens on the station with his hands linked behind his back. But once he noticed his stature, he wretched his hands away and smoothed down his shirt.]
Damn it, I'm not a Goddamn yucca plant.
Harbouring a katra, it turned out, was no leisurely task.
But now Spock was awake again and being as stubborn as ever, but McCoy was still troubled from his actions under the influence of a Vulcan mind meld. Good God, just how many people did he frighten with that Vulcan routine? Damn that bastard for putting all of them through hell.
Instead of one of the Sickbays, he found himself pacing the gardens on the station with his hands linked behind his back. But once he noticed his stature, he wretched his hands away and smoothed down his shirt.]
Damn it, I'm not a Goddamn yucca plant.