Mole Day on the U.S.S. Enterprise

As happens oh-so-often when traveling through an uncharted region of space, something strange occurred aboard the Enterprise.

Mr. Spock had been counting sheep when he was swept by an intense wave of disorientation. As the feeling subsided, he became acutely aware of the sensation that everything had suddenly become much larger than usual. However, through his handy-dandy use of logic, he determined that he had transformed into a mole.

How? The reason remained irrelevant. The most logical first step would be to find a way to turn back.

Or to tell someone. Whichever came first.

Mr. Spock was feeling quite un-Vulcan-like as he stared up at the turbolift with his beady little eyes. He could neither press a button nor speak aloud his destination, and therefore he'd never get there.

Well, if he couldn't get to the ship's bridge, he could try the next best thing.

It was as Spock stared up at the door to the Captain's quarters that he began to entertain the notion that being turned into a mole was affecting his mental processes. He obviously couldn't use the intercom to inform the Captain of his presence, and even if he could, the Captain was on the bridge anyway.

Ah. But Doctor McCoy wouldn't be.

...Once again, he found himself staring up at another closed door. Hmph... But of course, the air vents!

Upon scrabbling into the Chief Medical Officer's quarters, Spock began to feel quite irritated. No McCoy.

A distinctly amused glint appeared in the mole's eyes as an extremely un-Vulcan-like idea popped into his head.

Half an hour later

Spock-Mole waddled into Sick Bay, whose door automatically registered him as being the sort of creature that should have doors opened for it. He was rather satisfied by the door's interpretation, at least for the door's sake. He decided that it was worthy of continuing its existence, unlike its counterparts at the officers' quarters.

Dr. McCoy had his desk chair tilted back, wearing an expression somewhere between boredom and thoughtfulness. Knowing the human doctor, Spock decided it was the former.

Making yet another decision, to be blatantly obvious, Spock ambled into McCoy's direct line of sight.

McCoy didn't notice.

Spock made his move.

When the mole dropped from an overhead air vent onto the desk, both doctor and chair tumbled backward to the floor.

If Spock had been human, he would have burst out laughing. As it was, he peered over the edge, a distinctly pleased glimmer in his eyes.

McCoy was glaring darkly at the mole in a manner that the latter found quite familiar. Standing and dusting himself off, the glare remaining unbroken, Dr. McCoy stomped over to the intercom and activated it. "Sick Bay to bridge."

"What's up, Bones?" came Captain Kirk's voice, using his nickname for his friend.

"Jim, some critter just took a flyin' leap onto my desk."

"So?"

"Whaddaya mean, 'so'? What'm I supposed to do with it?"

"Give it a party hat. Pet it. Take it to Spock." Amusement clearly carried through over the intercom.

"Jim, if anybody'd put a party hat on some star-nosed rat, it'd be you," growled McCoy. "And I'm a doctor, not a delivery boy."

Spock listened detachedly to the rest of the argument. As long as McCoy didn't go all 'stubborn human' on him, he'd be taken to his own room. Whereupon it would be discovered that he wasn't there, a search would eventually go throughout the ship, and hypothetically they'd realize he wasn't there.

As it turned out, McCoy didn't go all 'stubborn human'. Although the doctor grumbled continuously for about a minute, he was soon quite fond of the 'critter' he was carrying.

Spock began to suspect that the fondness was making him ill.

Upon discovering the emptiness of the half-Vulcan's room, McCoy's complaints began anew. "That green-blooded hobgoblin--ouch!"

Spock had decided to test how well a mole could bite. Quite the valid experiment.

The doctor rubbed at his wounded finger, watching him warily. "Hope you don't have some plague that wiped out a planet or something. Heh. You'd think you and Spock were in cahoots."

Spock stared back at him in boredom.

Some time after that

After having searched the gym, cafeteria, and other places aboard the Enterprise that he thought might appeal to a Vulcan, McCoy called the bridge once again. "Jim...have you seen Spock?"

"Why?"

"My point is that I haven't seen hide-nor-hair of 'im since yesterday."

"Have you looked--"

"Yes, I've looked all over for 'im."

Spock noted that McCoy's Southern accent was somewhat stronger than usual. With something bordering on curiosity, he contemplated taking a nap. It was not as though he often did.

But soon, any possibility of sleeping was destroyed as he and McCoy arrived at the bridge and Lieutenant Uhura spotted the mole. "Oh, it's so cute!" Spock soon found himself coddled and cuddled.

He also found that he'd rather be alone on a glacier.

But eventually he managed to escape her clutches and hid under his science station. The captain and McCoy were conferring worriedly in the center of the room.

He was soon counting sheep and drifting off.

And then it hit him. Six-point-zero-two times ten to the twenty-third!

The bridge crew whirled toward the muffled thud, a few red-shirts preparing to sacrifice themselves as usual, when they found Spock blinking at them.

A wee bit later

"You see Captain, I have a habit of continuing logical mental processes while I sleep. It is not as strange an occurrence as you may seem to think. You are familiar with the phrase, 'counting sheep'?"

Captain Kirk waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, Spock, get on with it."

"I had just gotten to six-point-zero-two times ten to the twenty-third when the change occurred."

The captain stared at him blankly. After realizing a comment was expected, he asked, "So?"

"The number has significance in modern science. It escapes me how it took so long for me to notice. It is referred to as 'Avogadro's Number,' after a scientist on Earth in--"

"I repeat: so?"

Spock continued undaunted. "It is the number of objects in one mole. For years, the corresponding date, October twenty-third, was celebrated as 'Mole Day'. The celebration spanned from 6:02 to 18:02, which translates to 6:02 PM in the old twelve-hour--"

"Get to the point Spock!"

"I counted Avogadro's Number at exactly 6:02. And when today's date is translated from Stardate to Old Earth Date, you'll find that it's--"

"Mole Day. But why?"

"Why what, Captain?"

"Why did you turn into a mole?"

"Insufficient data."

"Speculate."

Spock simply raised an eyebrow, then repeated, "Insufficient data."

Kirk stared at Spock for a moment. "I guess Molcans are no help. Might as well ask a 'Magic Eight Ball.'" He smiled slightly before sighing in irritation.

Spock's eyebrow crept even closer to his hair.

After a pause, Kirk glanced at Spock. "...Six-point-oh-two sheep?"

The call of the intercom interrupted whatever may have been said in reply. "Spock, what did you do to my room?!"

Captain Kirk suddenly looked curious.

Amusement glinted in Spock's eyes, although his expression remained passive. "One might say that I left you a present, Doctor. 'Critters' tend to do that."