Alpha shift had only started twenty minutes ago and Jim had already stifled his ninth and tenth sneezes between his pointer and thumb, and then reached for the metallic tissue box near his elbow. He'd been fighting a head cold for three days now and so far it seemed to be winning. He blew his sore, red nose wearily, and tossed the tissue into the basket by his chair.
There was an unspoken order among the crew to not take note of their young captain's suffering and up till now they had been doing an admirable job of obeying said order. It wasn't until sneezes eleven and twelve followed their counterparts in quick succession that the ship's science officer got to his feet very quietly moved to the sole replicator the bridge had to offer. "Vulcan spiced cider, eighty-five degrees centigrade." The drink materialized and Spock picked it up, setting it on the unoccupied right arm of Jim's chair. "It will assist with your breathing, Sir. I believe your human rhinovirus has worsened to the point of affecting your clarity."
No one, with the exception of the fearless (at least when it came to Kirk's temper) Dr. McCoy, would have dared to even venture toward the chair, let alone mildly ribbed him about being stuffy. The two men at the helm glanced at each other in a nervous, yet amused way.
"Thadk you Spock." Jim's voice was more acrid than normal but he didn't look exceptionally annoyed. "But do be a favor ad keep your opidiods to yourself." He blew his nose then picked up the mug, taking a tentative sip.
"It was not an opinion, Sir. Opinions have little merit. I speak the truth." The first officer moved back to his seat without seeing Kirk's reaction to the drink.
The reaction was instantaneous and violent. He set his mug down and fumbled for the tissue box. His eyes smarted and his sinuses burned as Jim quickly ducked down into the handful of the soft clothes he'd snagged. The sneezing fit the followed was intense. "Spock! What the…" He cut himself off by sneezing another three times. "Whatthehellwasthat?!" Kirk managed to gasp out before sneezing twice more, his hair falling toward his eyes. He finally was able to blow his nose long and hard and fall back against the chair weakly. "What did you do to me?" He turned red-rimmed, accusing eyes to the infuriatingly calm Vulcan.
"Vulcan spiced cider has that effect on all who drink it. However you will find that your sinuses are now quite clear."
"You could have warned me first." Kirk muttered under his breath. "How long does this last? The whole not sneezing and being able to breathe thing, I mean."
"Its properties vary between individuals and the severity of the illness." He turned back to his computer and watched it intently.
Jim could tell when a conversation was over. He turned front and slumped in a way unbecoming to a Star Fleet captain. The peace on the bridge lasted for an hour before the sneezing and stuffiness started again. Jim rolled his eyes and started the count over. He sniffled softly and wiped his nose with a tissue, giving the staff a stern look. He didn't like Spock's remedy, and certainly wouldn't be trying it again, and besides which it had gone cold. Cursing to himself, Jim sat up and rubbed his temples. "Shit!" He couldn't contain the oath as he found that stifling his sneezes was proving to be too much work and too painful at this time. And damn if he wasn't exhausted. After a few minutes of staring at the screen Jim felt his eyes growing heavy and then they finally closed all together. The infraction may have gone unnoticed had he not snored when he was sick.
Kirk jerked awake when a cold, light hand rested on his shoulder and he found himself staring in blank confusion up at his first officer. "Spock? What…?"
"Captain, Mr. Sulu is more than capable of commanding the ship while we have no mission at hand. Would you allow me to accompany you to sickbay?"
To the crew's credit, no one seemed to be paying any attention to the exchange going on right in front of them. However Jim was still fairly mortified by the whole thing. "Spock, I assure you I dod't need…" Jim cut himself off by sneezing four times and blowing his nose in a tired way.
An eyebrow raised and Spock met his captain's eyes evenly, something akin to… well, compassion behind them, if Jim had been in the mood to attribute human emotions to his first officer at that time. "Jim."
That was all it took. That one word, spoken firmly but not unkindly, to get Kirk to rise from his seat and nod to Spock, tugging down at his tunic. "Mr. Sulu, you have the cod." As he entered the turbo lift, Jim glanced over at Spock, who was standing next to him, arms behind his back. It sank in that Spock was not going to sickbay with him to ensure that he went, he wasn't sick enough for that, but as a concerned friend. "Spock, I…" He ran a hand through his sandy hair, "thadk you."
"Your thanks are not required, Sir. I merely wish to ensure first hand that you do not have anything more than the human rhinovirus. Any sort of outbreak on this vesicle would prove to be trying."
Kirk had learned in the short time he'd been friends with Spock that when caught doing something out of any sort of feeling, he would twist it to be wholly logical. As the science officer, he would be in charge of working next to the doctors to isolate the illness and figure out a cure. It wasn't technically a lie; however Jim was able to see through to the whole truth. "Spock…"
"Sir?" The Vulcan looked down at his friend, eyebrow raised, ready to defend his logic.
Jim shook his head, choosing to pick his battles wisely this time. "It's just called a cold."