Disclaimers: I don't own Star Trek or any other references made

A/N: Another gender bender oneshot!

Regular is Spock.
Italics is Lenore.
Bold is both of them.

I Watch...

I watch her. It is not obvious, I am sure. My intent is to keep the knowledge of my regards to her to myself. I know nothing I have in mind will be reciprocated.

I watch him. Sometimes peek glances at him. I figure he hasn't noticed yet, the 'emotionless' hobgoblin. He probably has no idea how I feel. It's a shame really, I'm sure he doesn't feel the same way I do.

At first, when I looked at her, I felt nothing; she was a colleague that seemed determined to voice her opinion on any given situation and the Captain had no problem with such actions. I detracted myself from her presence any opportunity I had.

When I first met him, oh how I despised him. I had no problem telling him that, either. In fact, if he hadn't been so evasive, I'd have told him that to his face anytime we saw each other. But since he never bothered to show around, I guess I held my tongue.

We then began to speak more often. I have long known that humans were emotional, but this particular Terran was beyond such. Her decisions were commanded by the waves of her feelings; courses of action made through her passions. It was not healthy to speak to her. I would need to retreat to meditation upon each encounter. Her logic was flawed and she spoke to her other officers with her blunt emotions. There was no wisdom at all and I found distaste in her methods.

Then we started talking. And how fun was that. Emotionless, cold-blooded computer, is what he was. He wasn't afraid to let people die for the sake of the 'prime directive'. He was a straight-laced, straight-A student who would talk to me like I was some sort of stupid child he needed to correct. The lot of him. Every time we spoke I ended up more stressed than I usually was. For a while I was conditioned to get pissed simply at the mention of 'logic'.

Her voice would echo in my head, and I would find myself arguing with her in situations she herself was not present. Thoughts that 'the doctor would have said' or 'the doctor would have disagreed' had seeped into my mind. I could not understand why this was happening.

The walking computer didn't even NEED to be around! It's like he melded with me and left a little Spock to question my every action. 'That is not logical' or 'I do not understand that argot'. It drove me off my rocker! I had no idea why this was happening!

I decided to investigate.

I figured I'd find out why.

I decided to do this by placing myself in her presence more often. My eyes began to follow her actions. As CMO, I knew she was capable, but what amazed me was that she was very efficient. She was very concentrated in her work and would put aside any emotional disturbances.

My tactic was old-fashioned observation and experimentation. I showed up more often around him and I looked at him more often too. He was good at what he did, no objections there, he was Vulcan, for pete's sake. But it was astonishing how creative he could get in tense situations. And I'll be damned if he didn't do it for the sake of another life.

One day, our eyes met.

I regarded her with the same expression as always, but I could not help but wonder if this was when she would start noticing my regards toward her. I would be lying if I were to state this was not a concern.

I have no idea what face I had on, but the pit of my stomach felt livelier than killer bees on the chase. He was smart, so it wouldn't take long until he started catching on.

She harmed herself during an away mission. I dismissed her from duty for two weeks. She retaliated with rage and I added three more days from that reaction. In all honesty, M'Benga had informed me that she needed no longer than a week. I did not inform M'Benga of my statistics of danger regarding the next mission within that second week, but I did make an order that his diagnosis was not to be uttered to the doctor.

He got hurt. I told him he wouldn't be allowed to go to the next away mission unless he was cleared by me personally. The day that next mission approached… I didn't clear him. There wasn't a damn thing left on him when I checked him over but a small scar on his chest. Wouldn't open, it was just there. He disputed the matter but I informed him that I was the doctor and that was that. I beamed down because I couldn't stand lying to him any longer.

It was another ritual dance for the culture of these species, but this time, instead of being paired off with Nyota, I was paired off with her. The dance required us to stand close. It was a dance akin to one my mother had spoke of; waltz. Being my personal physician, she brought her surgeon gloves. She would not meet my eyes as we slowly danced amongst the crowds of people. I informed her that looking at me would not give me any telepathic readings, as it requires touch, but she softly whispered that she wasn't concerned. That she trusted me completely. I was left confused, but distracted myself by remembering the groves of her waist and size of her hands. It was… not unpleasant.

I didn't get it. I usually got stuck with Jim for these scenarios, which was completely fine because I could pass the time joking with him. We were best friends; it never got awkward. But this time, I was with him. Good ol' hobgoblin. Stuck in a dinky cell together. I looked up at him, all banged up and bruised. I probably looked no better. At this point, I tried to crack a joke. I remember trying to be positive, but I forgot that he was Vulcan and allowed my hand to rest on his skinned knee. He jolted up, removing my hand and stared at me with a sort of collected fright or rage, and I feared I was going to be gripped in a choke hold for treading on personal territory. I quickly apologized, and he looked away, muttering snippets of his usual 'Vulcan's don't do human culture' dialogue. We sat in silence until we were beamed up. My hand felt tingly from the warmth of his skin, and all I could remember was that green tint brushed across his face.

She rouses me. Emotionally, mentally. She questions and pries and it overwhelms me to the point of further meditation. No other being has come close to breaking my grasp in control as she has. It is stimulating and I have discovered that it is within an argument that I learn about her the most.

He riles me up. Intellectually, mentally. He gets my gears churning and I find myself reevaluating all that I believe in. No one else gets me to doubt my moral more than him. It's atrociously addicting and to my surprise, I think that there's no other means to learn about that hobgoblin than amidst a heated argument.

Perhaps one day, I will tell her.

Maybe, one day, I'll let him know.

Tomorrow, then?