Jim had always found it incredibly saddening that the primary designers of the Enterprise had neglected to build a rotational axis for the captain's chair. In times of boredom he was pretty sure it would have helped starve off the approaching insanity which he slowly felt closing in on him. Spinning in circles, despite making one rather nauseas was incredibly relaxing for some people. For Jim though, it would have simply served as a one road trip to fun and awesomeness. It couldn't be said that he hadn't tried to get himself undeniably dizzy. After nearly tipping the uncomfortable chair of its bearings from trying to move it sidewards did make him slightly apprehensive of repeating such an actionthough- for a fifth time. The mixed variety of expressions from the bridge, ranging from confusion from the talented young Chekov to the infamous raised eyebrow of his first officer was also another good reason to do a raincheck on the occupation. Falling off from a chair that was bolted to the floor in the middle of an exceptionally quiet room didn't really help his image as an able and vigilant captain. Seriously though, sitting around when nothing was happening wasn't exactly the highlight of his life. He nearly coupled it in with watching a newly painted wall dry or grass growing.

Today, however, Jim was preoccupied. Strangely enough it wasn't because a very important power coupling had decided to blow or a fuselage drop off from something it shouldn't be dropping off from. It wasn't due to one of those annoying anomalies, like a black holethat Spock delighted in decreeing they were heading toward. Nor was it because of any hostile Romulan's who had decided to use a freaking large drill to bore a hole into some peaceful planet, a scenario which didn't at all sound familiar to Jim. The preoccupation didn't even have anything to do with the fact that his communications officer had just walked past wearing a uniform which was slowly creeping higher and higher up her legs. Strange.

Instead, it was a slight gnawing pain which was coming from Jim's stomach, an ache which had started just after breakfast. Notorious for being an exceptionally fast eater, among other things, he had simply put it down to indigestion. He had lost count of the many times Bones had whisked him off to the sickbay when such a pain occurred, and scanned him until he was satisfied he hadn't concocted a nasty virus, been poisoned, or was going to die sometime in the near future. Jim had eventually tired of telling him that the problem was simply just the insanely busy schedule of a captain and just allowed himself to be shepherded along for the course of the inspection. The risk of getting Bones court marshalled for hitting a Captain lessened if he just cooperated, he decided.

Today though, the current pain had seemed to have exceeded the usual time limit of indigestion.

"Captain?" a quiet, neutral voice asked and Jim started. He picked up on the slight impatience behind the words, realising that it was probably the second time that Spock had been trying to say something to him. He looked up from frowning intently at a PADD on science updates he was supposed to be reading, yet wasn't, and turned in the direction of his first officer. "Yes, Mr Spock?"

Spock tilted his head slightly and his eyes glanced toward the PADD before back to Jim's face. "I was merely wondering at what was invoking your current idiom," he asked, moving his hands to clasp them behind his back. Jim stared at him confused, his eyebrows raised- and kept staring, trying in vain to make his brain comprehend the words that Spock had just said. Man, he felt completely out of it. He had that bubble feeling, where everything got blurry and kind of out of focus the further away it got from you. It was the wackiest of feelings. Sort of like when you're half drunk, and you're balancing on that precipice to nearly falling of the chair you had quickly sat down on too avoid falling over and looking like a complete idiot in front of that incredibly good looking girl you had instantly spotted when you had walked into the bar. This scenario was starting to vaguely sound like his eighteenth birthday, Jim thought and he inwardly grinned. Now that had been an awesome night. Dragging Bones along, despite the fact that he had to study for a human anatomy test which for some insane reason had him worried about, had been the best idea he'd had. That man was one funny drunk and regardless of staying out until five in the morning and waking up with a major hangover two hours later, he had still aced that particular examination.

Someone on the bridge coughed and he shook his head, once again pulling himself out of his thoughts as he noticed that Spock continued to patiently wait for his reply. More than likely this feeling had significantly more to do with the pain in his left side rather than intoxication however. It was just a tad bit too early to be drinking just yet. He sighed internally. God, he felt like going back to bed and sleeping, curling up into a ball and just relishing the warmth produced by the thermostat. He sighed again, and then focused onto the distinctly alien features in front of him. He opened his mouth and then promptly closed it again as he realised that he didn't have a clue of what Spock's question had been. He blinked as he looked up at his friend, and then stopped.

Jim hadn't realised how easy it was to become entranced within the unusually dark eyes of his first officer, as sappy as that sounded. They looked exactly like the straight black coffee he had each morning to chase away the remains of sleep. Pools of darkness. Pools of coffee. Mmm...coffee. Spock really did have nice eyes though. Really...

"...really cool eyes" Jim murmured without thinking and the eyebrows of the eyes that Jim was currently enamoured with lowered while the eyes in question narrowed slightly.

"...Captain?..."

His own eyes widened as his sluggish brain finally decided to wake up and he mentally slapped himself, trying to rearrange his features so that he looked less like he was gawking at the guy and more like he was stating a perfectly logical fact. Spock continued to look at him, head slightly tilted.

Jim swallowed. "It's nothing Spock, really, nothing. You know me. Always well you know...nothing at all...never mean anything really..." he rambled off dejectedly, not having a clue what he was saying. If anything the expression on Spock's face became even more assessing and Jim breathed out in admission and closed his eyes. He shook his head, letting it fall into his left hand, looking down at his chairs armrest. Anything to get away from the inscrutable eyes that were ironically now scrutinising him for signs of illness. He smiled despite his current predicament. He was surprised no one else had realised just how insane he was and hadn't locked him up yet. So much for an orderly captain. Next he'll be noticing how nice Uhura's hair is or what lovely earrings Chapel wears or things equally as absurd.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder and he jerked up in surprise. Blue fabric instantly swamped his view as he stared straight into Spock's science uniform. Jim moved his eyes upwards, bypassing the Starfleet insignia, and shoulders, tilting his head until he was once again looking into those jet stone eyes. Jim wouldn't have been surprised to find that his eyes had widened once again at Spock's abnormal sign of concern. 99.9% of the time Spock was a no contact zone. Maybe his first officer was being particularly less worried about such statistics this morning though. Sometimes he actually did do that, though it was usually after some life threatening operation or mid-space intergalactic war- but who knows.

"Captain, are you ill?" Spock asked, his hand retracting and falling instead to his side.

Jim waved his hand insignificantly. "I'm great thanks...absolutely peachy," he assured, hopelessly. A single eyebrow went up and he smiled uncertainly for lack of nothing else to do, trying to diffuse the questioning look he was receiving. A sharp pain radiated through his stomach, and his smile faltered, a grimace replacing it before Jim could rearrange his features. His hand twitched involuntarily toward the area of the pain, as he stopped himself from grabbing his stomach.

The look Spock was giving him became intense and the tilted eyebrows lowered even more as he seemed to pick up on the nearly invisible movement. You know, now that he noticed them, Spock's eyebrows were also incredibly....-he stopped. Really not going to go there.

He could already see Spock's brain whirling away and another question already forming on his lips. Before he said anything however he stopped, his eyes quickly flicking around, finally sensing the attention of the other crew members who had been watching the entire scene from the beginning. He once again moved closer, leaning forward.

"Jim...", he began.

"Really Spock, I'm fine..." Jim said cutting him off. "I'm just a little tired. That's all. I had tones of reports to write up last night and didn't crash until quite late."

It was both the truth and a lie at the same time. He had had reports to do but they weren't the reason he had been up until 1am in the morning.

One thing Jim hardly ever told people was that he was a sucker for a good book. There was something appealing about losing himself into a different world; something relaxing. Or distracting. Either way, Spock seemed to relent a little at his attempt at logic and stood up straight once again.

"In that case, am I correct in determining that something is not satisfactory with the science report?"

Jim stopped confused, for what seemed like the third time that morning. He should probably just go around with the expression permanently etched into his face whenever the guy was around. If anyone ever tried to tell him that Vulcan's were predictable he was pretty certain he would have a laughing fit at the exact same time. Just trying to understand the sudden turn in the conversation his first officer was now presenting to him and the basis behind such a topic would probably have astrophysicists squirming in their seats.

"What...?" he asked, somehow portraying all his confusion in one word and hoping it wasn't too abrupt.

Spock simply dropped his eyes and looked intently at Jim's hands. Jim himself followed the moving line of sight until...

Ah, right.

Jim looked at the device which somehow he still kept clasped in his hand while pulling himself back to five minutes ago. Frowning intently, nearly scowling, at a PADD on science updates just written up and then handed to him by his first officer, who also happened to be his science officer, probably didn't exactly sell the right impression to a man who prided himself on consistent high levels of work. Well, at least Jim could put that particular worry to rest.

"Nah, Spock, it's great," Jim reassured him, patting the blue clad arm that was resting beside his chair and feeling like an adult who was reassuring a child that it was ok that they got a B+ on a test. "Absolutely wonderful and unbelievably awesome. No one could do a better job," he said, laying it on thick just for the sake of it. "It was the perfect thing to wake me up this morning. I can't thank you enough."

Spock looked slightly less worried and slightly more bemused as Jim handed back the PADD and followed it through with two thumbs up and a joking smile. "I'm glad that you are finally coming to enjoy the more documented side of your position, captain, despite your previous aversion to paperwork," he replied. "I shall be sure to provide you with many more opportunities, such as this, to increase your new found enjoyment."

Jim chuckled and there was a scattering of laughs from the crew as they also realised the significance behind Spock's words. The pointy-eared bastard was getting incredibly quick at those come backs lately. With his Vulcan brain he would be outstripping Jim in less than a week he guessed. He may have to actually start preparing his comebacks the day before if he was going to have much of a chance to keep up with him. He smiled.

It was interesting how normal being friends with Spock was. It wasn't even a friendship which was forced for the smooth running of the Enterprise either. It was real and it was nice. It was nice in the sense that each day they wouldn't be at each other's throats constantly about every decision that was made on the bridge.

No one onboard the ship could say that it occurred easily though, unless they were kidding themselves.

Or living constantly in some form of happy land.

For about two weeks after gaining his captaincy, tension could be seen all around the ship despite Jim quite happily welcoming his current first officer onto the bridge. Funnily enough though he found that it was only when they were actually doing their jobs that the conflicts seemed to arise. They both had such different and strong styles of performing their jobs that the disagreements were almost premeditated by some stupid universal force. Their completely opposite characters probably didn't help either, Jim guessed. Despite this though, the guy was actually pretty cool as well relatively easy to talk to.

Once you actually figured out what he was saying of course, he thought. He had to have Spock constantly rephrase his sentences and wording until they were less convoluted and more understandable when they first began working together. Lately, however, he had noticed that he was having to do that less and less as he somehow tuned into the intent and meaning behind the words whenever he was talking to him. Like tuning into a radio station. Spock Station. It was quite an educational experience really and he actually felt incredibly happy and kind of...well...bubbly that the animosity had stopped.....

....bubbly?!....what the hell?

A searing pain rippled through Jim's body, jolting him unpleasantly to the present for the third successive time that day and shedding all previous thoughts from his mind. He gasped, his body convulsing around the painful area, grabbing hold and tightly squeezing the chairs armrest to stop himself from crying out.

An armrest which felt peculiarly like an arm.

Jims head came up and his eyes instantly met with dark, curious and slightly worried ones in return. Spock looked down and Jim followed his line of sight noticing that it was in fact the Vulcan's arm he was possible constricting the life out of. The arm which was attached to the hand that he had placed on his shoulder beforehand. His eyes widened as he quickly let go of his first officer and instead grabbed what he had intended to in the first place- the armrest- as another wave of pain sliced him open.

Or that is what it felt like.

"Captain?"

Spock's gaze had once again increased in the worried factor. Somehow though he was still surveying Jim as if he were some interesting experiment. Jim rolled his eyes. Sometimes the man took his work too seriously. His gaze though, wasn't the only one on him it seemed. Many of the crew had turned from their stations to see what was occurring to their infamous captain. Chekov and Sulu had spun around on their chairs, ones which did actually have rotational axels and Uhura had even risen from her seat. Amazingly though, they were all just standing there. Talk about emergency deficient. He could be dying for all they knew. Whether or not he was though it would still be nice if whatever was doing this to stop so he could get back to work and Spock could stop looking at him like that which was actually starting to freak him out because it made him feel like he had caught some incurable disease.

Maybe it was time to call in the man of the hour.

Another ripple washed through him, making his back slightly arch.

Definitely time to call in his other good friend- one he should probably have on speed dial.

Through the waves of pain which seemed to be getting more and more consistent and painful as the seconds ticked by, Jim was able to finally form a coherent sentence. "Bones" he gasped, waving his free hand around as if the man in question would suddenly appear by magic. "Get Bones," he repeated closing his eyes against the pain.

That was probably the point at which the unresponsive crew realised that no, he was not faking it and no, this wasn't some bloody rehearsal for a movie. Jeez, talk about clueless. That he was actually asking for Bones was probably the clincher, he thought. Since half the time Jim usually ran away from the madman with hypo's he called his CMO, it was probably shocking that now he actually wanted him. Spock, who had moved closer to Jim and was currently holding his shoulder once again, signalled to Uhura, who in turn moved to the intercom and quickly patched herself through to the sickbay.

"Sickbay here," came a soft female voice from through the metal grill. Chapel.

"Hey Chapel, Uhura here," his communications officer replied. "It's the captain."

"What's-" Chapel continued, but before she could finish a scuffle was heard from the opposite side. Soft protests came through mixed with gruff and resistant 'sorry's'. The intercom crackled and then another voice came through.

"What did he do this time? Jim, I swear, if it's some utterly stupid and completely unnecessary-"

Bones.

Jim inwardly smiled and it was at that point that he lost track of the verbal abuse which Bones was throwing his way and time in general. He decided to screw sitting up. Man, he didn't even like the bloody uncomfortable, non- rotational chair anyway. Always making a complete idiot out of him and giving him cramps and pins and needles.

Relinquishing his ability to sit, he promptly slid sideways out of the chair as the next wave of aching knives came through. He didn't really have much choice in the matter as the amount of pain was making him less in control of his movements, but it was better to go out with as much dignity as possible. He landed hard on the grill with a grunt of pain, though much more lighter than if Spock, with his super Vulcan reflexes, hadn't caught him before he full on hit the floor.

Saved by da' Spock.

Dignity could be screwed also it seemed.

He could hear Uhura talking but couldn't make out the words. The pain inside his stomach had suddenly decided to perform a back flip and had moved below his stomach. It was now attacking his left side. Nausea rolled through him, replacing the pain with a sickening feeling in his stomach. He gripped onto the bottom of Spock's shirt, groaning. He fought the nausea off for all he was worth. There was no way in hell that he was going to be sick all over his first officer. The poor guy was probably already mentally scarred as it was. Currently Jim was positioned with his head in his hands and half his body lying on top of him. It was a perfect chick-flick romantic dying-lover scene. He snorted and was actually able to laugh as the pain let up for the moment, opening his eyes in time to see Spock look down at him curiously.

"I could be dying Spock" he said as dramatically as he could. One of Spock's eyebrows rose, obviously hearing the theatrics in his voice. Yep, very movieish.

"I highly doubt that Captain."

"Still, anything's possible."

"Since you have no standing in any medical profession it would be advisable to wait for the Doctor to arrive before making any assumptions."

Jim actually rolled his eyes this time. Trust Spock to not play along. Either way, where the hell was Bones? He thought that he'd be running to the bridge as quickly as he could but obviously, despite being a captain, he just wasn't very important. Though, it was quite a way to the bridge from the sickbay, Jim thought, which could also be a reasonable factor in his lateness.

"You're going to have to be all emotional and shit" Jim said and his first officer once again looked down at him eyebrow raised.

"You are not going to die Jim." he said and Jim could tell he was slightly exasperated or annoyed from the change of 'captain' to 'Jim'.

"But, if I do-"

"You will not"

"Yes, but-"

"No" and there was a sense of finality in Spock's voice.

Jim stopped, eyes widened and eyebrows raised as he stared at his first officer, who continued to look down blandly at him. It might be annoying, true, and completely unnecessary, however...

"Yes" he started

Spock breathed out air through his nose which he apparently had been holding and retaliated. "No"

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No"

"Yes"

Spock's eyes widened marginally as he quickly realised that a half incapacitated man had just beaten him in the challenge of the yes and no's. Jim did as much of a victory dance as he could while lying on the ground, something which consisted of a half flopping movement with his hands and a brief exclamation of 'ha!'. He hadn't even had to do it for a long time. Glorious victory. He grinned.

"Right, so now that we agree I'm dying, I've decided that you are going to have to actually cry" Jim said, straight faced. "It will be hard, I know. However if we both work together I think we'll get through it just fine." Snorts of laughter above the two of them followed this remark. Obviously the crew were enjoying the show.

"I do believe we can save the emotional side effect of tears for Doctor McCoy when he gets here." Spock replied, his newly placed neutral expression being undermined by the slight upwards twitch of his lips.

Jim scoffed. "Sure, he's taking so long I can guarantee that I will be dead and in the nearest coffin by the time he actually gets here."

"I heard that Jim"

Jeez, the universe was a bitch.

The gruff voice from the intercom had finally made its way to the bridge, conveniently bringing with it the actual body of Leonard McCoy and hopefully his bag of magic tricks which would make whatever was hurting Jim lay down and get steam rolled.

"Took your time", Jim grumbled under his breath, looking up at the middle aged man who was now standing above both him and Spock and looking incredibly confused.

"Well this looks like fun."

"I believe I should not be amazed that I once again find myself disagreeing with your opinion Doctor."

"Oh that hurt, Spock."

Spock glanced down at him and gave a slight shrug as Bones supplied his own glare at the proper candidate. "Your weight has stopped the necessary blood flow to my legs, hence little oxygen has been supplied to such regions and a cramping effect began six minutes following your collapse. It is a rather uncomfortable feeling. I believe that humans such as yourself refer to it as 'pins and needles.'"

Bones crouched down next to Jim, muttering something about 'moving' while taking a tricorder out of his bag and scanning him. He wriggled slightly as a tingling sensation followed its presence. Bones looked up and gave Jim a questioning look.

"What exactly is wrong Jim?" he asked, moving the tricorder down over his chest.

Jim opened his mouth to reply, blinked and then frowned. That was a good question actually. It had been the left side of his stomach before though that seemed to have gone. As well the momentary feeling of nausea he had experienced. Strange. Maybe it had just been indigestion after all. A really bad case of it. Frowning further, he went to say as much to Bones but the tricorder beat him to the punch. The little machine which was currently hovering over his lower left abdomen, was emitting a low beeping sound and Bones himself was now frowning and rubbing his chin, while reading whatever had appeared on the screen.

"...hmm...could be...might not...although...never certain..." he mumbled to himself and Jim suppressed the urge to over exaggerate the sigh which made its way from him. So much for definite examinations and results.

All of a sudden and quicker than Jim thought he could ever move, the doctor had his hands positioned on Jim's stomach. Before he could ask him exactly what the hell he was doing, Bones had pressed down.

Hard.

Jim's entire body convulsed as a dormant pain flared up and raced through his body, his chest and legs coming up from the floor to curl around his stomach in a pointless attempt to protect him from whatever was causing him pain. Aches surged through his lower back, making him shudder. Jeez, even his shoulders and neck hurt now.

"Son of a bitch, Bones!" he gasped, as nausea assaulted him, making him close his eyes and fall back to the more stable ground. Two overly warm hands caught him however and instead lowered him slowly back to his previous position. "I thought doctors were supposed to help people not bloody well kill them!"

"Stop complaining" was all the response Jim got before the Doctor walked over to the intercom and patched through to the sickbay, Chapel answered.

"Chapel, I need you to set up the operation table. We're going to be taking out an appendix." Bones said, glancing back at Jim, who still remained curled on the floor.

"We're also going to need a stretcher brought to the bridge."

Silence followed this statement.

"Chapel?"

"Sir, our stretches were ruined during one of the ships last missions remember," the nurse reminded Bones. "We haven't yet docked at a sufficient location to replace them."

The doctor swore. Yeah, he remembered all right. Jim and his bloody stupid plans. Plans that would never work unless your name was specifically James T. Kirk. You had to have a certain amount of insanity to pull off the stunts he did. Insanity specially ordered, packaged and delivered by the captain himself.

"Ok then, forget that idea. Just get the bed ready."

A positive assertion followed his words and Bones shut down the link. He walked back over to where Jim lay on the ground. Beads of sweat had formed on his brow as the pain slowly leached through his entire back and into his legs. He looked at his friend speculatively.

"Trust you Jim to have a bad case of appendicitis" he said shaking his head and moving to his bag. "I'm going to give you something for the pain, okay, and when that starts working we're going to move you to the sickbay," Bones said selecting an intimidating hypo from one of the side pockets of the med kit, taking aim and injecting what to Jim felt like an elephant tranquiliser into the side of his neck.

He looked up at his friend, neck stinging. "I'm dying aren't I?" he asked, already beginning to feel incredibly woozy. These 23rd century medicines were amazing. He heard a sigh from above him as he said this. Ah, that's right, Spock. He had forgotten he was there. The pain seemed to be receding, replaced however by a foggy cloud which was slowly settling inside his head, making legible thought incredibly hard to produce.

"Would you prefer it if I said you were?"

Bones rolled his eyes as he saw Jim considered this. "Not really. But you see, Spock and I have this wager about whether or not I will, that is to say, fall of the perch, kick the bucket, go towards the light....," he rambled on. Bones looked at Spock, aghast.

"Really Spock," he asked. "Gambling? And here I thought you did not delve into such atrocities, the innocent and pure being that you are."

"There are many days Doctor, that I wonder what it is that makes my entire person constantly disagree with you," Spock said, an eyebrow raised. "I've finally decided that I needn't bother" the Vulcan continued, "as it is you that is the source of the problem, not me."

Bone' eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to reply. Jim however decided to beat him to the punch with more of his very insightful but completely mad ramblings.

"..exit my bodily encasement, be embraced by the dark, be relieved of bodily functions.. "

Both Doctor and Vulcan seemed to momentarily forget their current feud, and looked down in a mixture of bemusement and surprise at their induced captain who continued to move between a weird subconscious world and reality.

"I must say that the Captain's ability to keep producing words containing more than three letters and more than one syllable, half drugged, is quite amazing," Spock remarked, tilting his head to the side. "I may even go so far as commending him on the ability after the current situation has passed."

Bones grinned smugly. "You see, I've always argued that drinking could be an educational experience. Of course I never say how it could be, but as you can see, years of drinking while still holding legible conversations with women have come in handy for Jim."

"As I can see no exceptionally good result that has transpired despite his mundane ability to talk normally, I would not make that same assumption." Spock replied, the very picture of neutrality despite the raised eyebrows.

"Jeez Spock, let's just agree to disagree alright?" Bones said, throwing his hands in the air and breathing out a sigh.

"That would be contradictory to what we are constantly trying to achieve Doctor. In our time known to one another we have seemed to come to a mutual agreement that we must always rebut each other in one way or another."

The older man stopped and looked at the stoic Vulcan, eyebrows lowering in confusion. He drew in a breath, opened his mouth and then continued to shut it, releasing the collected air through his nose instead. He tried again with more success.

"Spock..." he asked, drawing out the word as the Vulcan himself started to look midly confused. "Did that sentence really make any sense to you at all?" Bones asked, scratching his head. "Cause' I'm pretty sure that when you break it down, you just said that we have agreed on something while also saying that we never do."

The first officer in question blinked.

Twice.

"I believe it is about time to move the Captain, Doctor" he answered, "If my timing of the pain serum is correct."

Bones just grinned wickedly.

The current idea of moving somehow registered within Jim's head and he stopped his verbal stream of consciousness and blinked up at the two men. He didn't really feel like getting up. Spock was particularly warm and surprisingly comfortable. He didn't move either so he was just like a strangely positioned chair. It was even better than his normal bloody non-rotational, hard, uncomfortable, cramp and pins and needles giving, captain's chair. Maybe he should tell Spock, though the small un-drugged part of Jim was telling him that it was a bad idea. He mused around the thought.

Ah, what the hell. He was never one to listen to reason. Unless of course it was Spock who was doing the reasoning accompanied by pages upon pages of logical arguments explaining why whatever he was doing would end badly.

And then only sometimes.

"Have you ever considered a career as a chair Spock?" he asked groggily. "Cause I could defiantly give you a great reference as being incredibly comfortable," he mumbled. "You know what?" he asked, another thought suddenly occurring to him. "You can take over the job from my chair! It's time it retired," he said while nodding his head, strangely happy with incoherent Jim's logic.

Silence met this last statement, one of either extremely terrified horror or completely unexpected surprise.

"I hope to god that was the drug talking Jim." he heard Bones say.

Interesting. Maybe Spock didn't like being referred to as a chair. Jim hoped he hadn't offended him in anyway. He should say something else, you know, to make him feel better. A compliment.

Hmm....

Ah...

"...did you know you have really awesome eyes Spock.?...." he slurred, mind numbed.

A few sniggers could be heard from the bridge and Jim saw the eyes in question close.

"..and so it gets worse everybody.." the doctors voice said theatrically, holding his arms wide.

"Can I assume the medicine is efficiently working Doctor?" Spock asked, opening his eyes which looked almost pleadingly up at Bones.

"...they look like that black coffee that I have in the morning....I really like that coffee. Really like it. Did you know that Spock?"

Bones lent over as the entire bridge erupted into peals of laughter. There seemed also to be a few thumps on the floor as if people were even falling of their chairs.

"Captain, may I propose that you cease in your attempt to speak?" Spock suggested, looking down at him.

A hurt expression made its way across Jims face. "You know, I just love how you have such a diplomatic way of telling me to shut up Spock. "It's so wayward but somehow incredibly effective at the same time." He looked up at his first officer. "I thought you liked me Spock..?"

"It was not my intention to-

Bones crossed his arms. "Oh give it up man." he cut of Spock and then looked at Jim. "Yes, you idiot, he's telling you to shut up because once again you are making yourself look ridiculous."

Jim glared up at the Doctor who had become slightly out of focused. "Well that's not my fault, is it?" he said. "You're the one who gave me whatever it is you jabbed me with."

"On that note Doctor I believe that whatever it was should be effectively working" Spock said and looked intently down at Jim. "His previous statements are also significant enough evidence that-"

"...he's gone completely insane, Sir?" said voice radiating from above and to the left of Jims head.

A black eyebrow rose. "Though not what I had in mind, such a phrase does cover quite a few aspects of my primary idea Lieutenant Sulu", Spock replied. "If not slightly excessive in its suggestion."

Bones past a glance over his best friend. "Nah, that's just him. Idiotic and smart at the same time. It must be gift..." he said, shaking his head. He then snorted. "...or a curse. Either way, yeah, we can move him to the sickbay now."

A silence followed his confirmation. Both men looked down at Jim's dead weight, both running different scenarios through their heads. Spock spoke first to Jim's relief.

"Perhaps if I were to carry him?"

Jim's eyes widened at this and the relief was quickly stamped out by consternation. No way was Spock going to be carrying him around anywhere. He would walk and that was final. He was the captain damnit!

He said as well himself.

"Walk Jim?" Bones said, emphatically. "You can't even stand for God's sake. You probably couldn't even crawl there if you wanted to."

"Bones, Spock isn't some bloody pack horse, you do realise that right?" he asked moving to sit up.

"Oh what, and he can be a chair instead Jim?" the doctor replied cynically. "Oh yeah, that's a real upgrade, that is."

"Captain, I do not mind the action if it is necessary. Your weight will not pose a problem for me."

"No really Spock, I can do this, I can." he said and then suddenly stopped. "Hey, are you calling me fat?" he asked, looking incredulously down at Spock who was still on the floor, but had crossed his legs and had his hands placed on his knees in a general meditative position.

Bones groaned and grabbed his head with his hands before Spock could answer. "You are going to send me prematurely grey Jim, you do know that, right?"

Jim cast a sceptical eye over Bones head. "Sorry Bones, you're a bit late for that."

His CMO rolled his eyes. "Well come on then superman, show us your great talent of being able to stand up vertically then" the Doctor said leaning against one of the consoles.

Jim, who was currently kneeling on the floor, glared at Bones before grabbing onto the nearest stable object in the room. The captains chair. Someone or something was really out to get him, Jim decided. He then heaved himself, not particularly elegantly, up off from the floor.

The one thing he hadn't anticipated, in all the possible scenarios that may occur from doing so, (ranging from falling over again, too essentially staying standing) was that the chair may actually move.

Jim was able to swear in 27 different alien languages. Though it might not be a particular achievement to be proud of, he never the less found that it did come in handy when one was planet side and in the presence of a civilisation who had decided to just piss him off. You had the option of doing many stupid things out of the annoyance, choosing from kicking something really hard to telling the alien colony you were trying to establish an alliance with to get screwed- something which no Federation handbook ever suggested you do. Instead, he opted with the lesser of the many actions and chose a language which was furthest from the cultures and let loose. This way at least it was only usually and hopefully Spock or Uhura, whoever happened to be with him, who flinched.

At this moment in his life when the effect of -9.8 gravity was upon him and his legs had decided to lose momentary feeling however, he decided to go with something a bit original.

"Damnit" he was just able to mutter before the chair swung to the right of him and his rubbery legs shot out from under his body, sending him falling to the left of the raised level that the chair sat upon. He landed on the grated floor; face down and with his arms and legs splayed in various different and uncomfortable directions. He groaned.

"Captain"

Another groan.

"If I may suggest it, Captain, should we go with the alternative measure of assisting you now?"

Yet another groan.

"Just pick the idiot up Spock."

He didn't even bother groaning again; Bones didn't deserve it.

"I think the Earth saying goes 'let it be on your head', Doctor" the Vulcan replied as Bones rolled his eyes and gestured toward the two of them.

"Come on, hurry up, he's going to be dead before too long" he said and mumbled under his breath. "Then maybe we can all get some peace and quiet"

Suddenly the world started moving as Jim was lifted upwards and he had to clench his eyes and mouth shut as the dormant nausea rolled through him once again. It was obvious that the hypo had only been for the pain. Somehow though, such thoughts were secondary within his mind. He could think of only one thing.

Spock.

Or more specifically...

Spock carrying him, a fact that he knew was correct from the abnormal amount of heat that was seeping through the supporting arms and into his back which was surprisingly helping to relieve some of the pain.

Good God and all ye Holy Saints out there, could this be any worse?

It probably could have been, he thought. If Bones had made the first suggestion he'd most likely be sliding along the floor being pulled along by a piece of rope that was tied to some machine or something absolutely ridiculous like that. So in all truth he probably should be thanking Spock. Though he would only do that, after this was all over and if none of the crew had happened to have a camera handy during the entire process.

He sighed as the jolting lessened and he opened his eyes slightly to see that the world had stopped moving as aggressively. Getting carried around wasn't actually that bad, he thought. Ok, it was kind of weird and all but not by far the weirdest situation he had been in before. Now the mission they had just completed-that was weird.

The planet they orbited around had literally brought to life all the crews thoughts. If the guy in charge of it all, some strange hermit dude with a weird name, had actually had the initiative to asked Jim in the first place he could have told him that it would be a bad idea. The Enterprise wasn't just manned by a young crew, but also quite a strange one. And those different qualities Jim looked for in different and strange people really didn't help when it came to that particular planet with all their crazy thoughts literally running wild. Seriously, he swore to God if he ever saw an overlarge, obese white fluffy bunny rabbit ever again it would not know what hit it.

Since Jim would already have hit it with a phaser.

He didn't have a clue what he was going to put in the report he had to send back to the Federation.

Ah, the report. Jim knew there was something he was forgetting. Well, he usually tried to forget about the paper work most of the time anyway. Man, he hated all that regulation crap. It always put a dampener on a victorious mission. He liked to just celebrate about simply being alive without having to write the fact down sophisticatedly amid other seemingly pointless and useless facts. Like yes, we did use the phasers to shoot down the enemy and yes, we did have a good reason for it, and no, we didn't make that particular reason up and yes, Mr Spock also eventually decided it was a good plan which was not due to lack of others, and no, it wasn't a completely insane and endangering plan either. According to Jim anyway.

He had a habit of leaving his first officers opinions out of the report most of the time as well.

Ah, so forgetful of him.

Either way if he didn't have that report sent in time, Admiral Hoosywhatsisname would eat him alive then spit him right back out. The way things were currently going though he was getting further away from the bridge with said report writing materials and closer to almost perpetual doom and surgery.

Fascinating.... Jim mused channelling his first officer. He frowned. Actually it was likely more frustrating than fascinating but the drugs seemed to have short circuited the wires to his brain, not allowing him to channel needed emotions properly.

Another jolt and grimace later and Jim decided to take matters into his own hands. He didn't really need his appendix out. Personally he was quite emotionally attached to it and kind of wanted to keep it. It would be like taking an arm off or even a leg. Man, he could hardly bear to think of such an atrocity and knew for certain that if such an action were to be performed he would not be able to cope. There would be tears...and possibly blood. Definitely blood- and not just his either. He wouldn't go without a fight.

He paused.

Did he seriously just think that?

It would be the stupid drugs again. He hoped it was drugs anyway. They always messed around with his system whenever he had to take them. It was either a physical reaction or a damn emotional one. Bones had even had him crying his eyes out in the sickbay at one point for something he can't even remember. All he knew was that he better not start having a repeat of that same action.

Really not cool.

First things first though, just as any good bank robber would need a getaway car, Jim would also need a means of transport back to the bridge.

Of course the most obvious choice was holding him right now.

This choice, however, would be the hardest to convince, he had a feeling.

Maybe the half Vulcan was truly an adventurer at heart and wouldn't mind trying to make a break for it in the opposite direction to which they were going. There was always a possibility no matter how thin. He raised his hand and hit Spock's shoulder. In response, black eyes snapped to his and stared curiously down at him. Jim grinned.

The corner of Spock's lip twitched upwards in retort. "Was there a primary intention behind your action Captain?" he asked adjusting Jim's weight in his hands as he did.

Jim rolled his eyes. "As awesome as it is to be carried away into the sunset by you Spock, I was thinking we could do something different to the norm."

"Despite this being hardly normal Jim, I must confess my ignorance. Your current train of thought presently eludes me. Please explain what you mean by 'different'."

The corner of Jim's mouth curled into a conspiratorial smile and he gestured to Spock to come closer. The dark eyes sparked with curiosity and a head was tilted closer to Jim's in response. Well, at least part of him was interested.

"I was thinking that we could make a run for it."

It was truly amazing how a Vulcan's expression could take such an abrupt turn so quickly. Really. It must be genetic; a sub-effect from their incredibly fast reflexes. Or it was just something Spock was able to do. Either way, the momentary spark in his first officer's eyes distinguished and they once again looked at him blandly, all within a nanosecond.

"How do you suppose to achieve such a thing, Jim, when you are close to being incapacitated and quite severely drugged?" Spock asked, looking like he was having to explain the process of counting to a statistician.

"You see Spock, that's your problem, you're always with the negatives."

"If by negative you mean that I have an aversion for highly endangering or completely unnecessary actions, then yes," Spock said "I am as you say, negative."

Jim huffed and remained silent. The two of them remained as so until...

"Captain , are you pouting?"

"Shut up", Jim muttered and Spock's lip's twitched.

Ah, well, screw the report then, he really couldn't be bothered.

"Hey, you two, I know you're both wrapped up in your own little world back there but if that appendix bursts its goodnight Jimmy." Bones said as he turned around and stopped, waiting for Spock, who had slowed his progress while talking to Jim, to catch up.

"Don't call me Jimmy, Bones" Jim rebuked, folding his arms as they drew alongside the doctor and continued to walk. "It makes me feel like I'm five years old."

Bones scoffed "Jim, I hate to break it to you, but you look five years old being carried around like that. All I can hope is that there are feeds of this on the security cameras later on," he said speculatively, casting a glance around before looking back at Jim who was glaring at him. "Aw, don't look like that Jimmy," he said, "You're ruining the cute factor."

Jim scoffed. "Ok Bones, let's get something straight here. I can do awesome, dashing and ruggedly handsome," he said as Bones snorted and Spock's eyebrows rose. "But I defiantly cannot do cute."

Bones looked down at Jim, hands on his hips. "You know you might actually have been able to convince me of that," he said. "That is of course if I hadn't already had the pleasure of sitting down with your mother to look through all those nice baby photos of yours," he mocked. "Man, you can do cute alright."

"Bones!"

"Okay, jeez, well, whatever you say, Jimmy," he said as the lift in front of Jim arrived. There would only be room for him and Spock, he noticed. Bones would have to take the next one. He couldn't resist the chance.

"I'm glad we sorted that out then, Lenny," Jim replied, and grinned evilly as Spock stepped inside the lift and pressed the command for the door, letting them shut on Bones' very evident glare.

"You know this could actually catch on," he said to himself as Spock pressed in the deck number. He looked up at his first officer who once again gazed inscrutably down at him and radiated such a serene and complete picture of 'don't even think about' that Jim instantly shut his mouth which he had opened and rolled his eyes instead.

"Or not," he muttered as the lift began to rise and beams of light flashed through the column as the different levels passed by.

Ok, yeah, I know that the Captain's chair does actually spin but lets say for properities sake that it doesn't do so very well eh?

Ciao!