The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship?

Dr. Leonard McCoy, Cadet, headed down the hallway for a mandatory appointment with his most interesting instructor, who ironically taught the subject in which he was least successful. Instructor Spock had ordered all students who received a grade of C or below on the midterm to see him during office hours. McCoy had received a C-minus.

It was illogical that anyone should do this poorly, Mr. Spock informed the class. Thankfully, no names were mentioned although McCoy heard more than a few groans from the back of the class.

The door to the language department was partly open. Still, he knocked. Protocol and all; the last thing he wanted was an additional lecture on the medical profession's lack of respect for others.

"Leonard?"

His friend Uhura stood on the other side of the door "C'mon in, Len." Uhura pressed a panel to slide the door fully open.

She was Spock's teaching assistant and if rumor to be believed, his main squeeze.

Which, McCoy thought, was probably untrue. Starfleet was strict enough about relationships among personnel; a romance between a Starfleet instructor and student could be catastrophic to the careers of some of the most ambitious people in the Federation.

Uhura was way too careful to potentially compromise her budding career, which included a burning ambition to serve on Enterprise, a new exploratory-class starship still under construction in close wraps over Seattle. Spock had recently been promoted to Commander. He was close to Captain Christopher Pike and wouldn't want to risk a likely appointment as Science Officer for Pike's next assignment as Enterprise's captain.

Not that it was impossible. McCoy didn't buy the once-every-seven-years bullshit many of his classmates talked about when the topic of Vulcans came up. For one thing, Spock was half-human although McCoy was hard-pressed to see any evidence of it. Plus, he'd overheard some of the more gossipy medical staff he trained with talk about Spock being quite popular with female classmates during his relatively recent student years at the Academy.

"Thanks," McCoy said to Uhura. "I can't believe I've been called in to the headmaster's office."

"That's why I'm kind of surprised to see you," she offered. "I had no idea you were doing that badly in Intro." McCoy sighed. "Why didn't you come to me for help? I could have tutored you and spared you this…ordeal."

"If I was smart, no logical, I would have audited the damn course," McCoy said. "I'm too old to learn a new language. But I figured an intro course would be a breeze, and it isn't. At least not with this hard-ass hobgoblin teaching it."

Uhura tried hard not to laugh. "Careful, Len, he's got extra-strength hearing," she said in a low voice.

From the next office over, Spock entered the little reception area off language instructors' offices. "Cadet McCoy," he intoned. "Good for you to come here. Come on in and let us talk."

McCoy raised his eyebrows to Uhura. She shrugged. "I've been helping him develop a friendlier approach to students," she said. "Commander, I'll take a break while you two are in conference."

McCoy followed Spock into his office. Spock pressed a panel to close the door and motioned him to sit at a small round table, rather than in front of his desk. A small, leafy plant was placed at the center of the table; he realized from its smell that it was spearmint. Interesting detail. McCoy recognized Uhura's book bag to the side. A couple of PADDs and styluses lay on top of it.

Spock sat opposite him. "Do you require any sustenance?" he asked. "Tea, water…I believe Cadet Uhura has coffee stashed somewhere out there."

Stashed? If he wasn't squeezing in off-hours with Uhura, he certainly was spending enough time to pick up her slang.

"I'm good," McCoy replied. "But thanks."

Spock nodded. "I appreciate your coming in to discuss your midterm grade. You are the first to do so."

McCoy nodded back at him. "I have to say, I was surprised that I did so poorly. I mean, I thought I had at least some of this down."

"Not an illogical conclusion, as you did passably well on the quizzes," Spock agreed. "Your pronunciation, at least as it came across on the oral portion is what, as they say, 'killed you'."

McCoy grimaced. "I had a feeling that was the reason. But I don't know how to make my voice obey. I know I can remember what to say, it's how I say it that's tripped me up."

"There are a few ways you can address this," his instructor offered. "One, I host informal bull sessions, for lack of a better word, in Vulcanese on Tuesday evenings at my quarters off campus. Two, I can tutor you; Uhura can do so as well. Her speech is excellent, almost as good as a native. And three…," he rose and walked over to his desk, pulled open a drawer, and rummaged around for an envelope. "Three, I can give you tickets to the Vulcan Film Festival next month. Film can be an excellent medium for observing language structure."

"A Vulcan Film Festival?" McCoy could hardly suppress his laughter. "Now that's something I didn't expect."

"Why not?"

Now McCoy wished he didn't speak so openly. "Uh, well, it's not like Vulcans are noted for their creativity, their humor, or…warmth if you don't mind my saying."

Spock tilted his head. "I would have to disagree. I believe that if you visited our home planet, you would find some of the most fascinating fine arts, literature, and technologies ever created."

"I meant no offense, sir," McCoy responded. "I just go to movies to be entertained, to laugh or be taken away on an adventure…to get away from school for a while."

"No offense is taken, Cadet. Or should I say Doctor?"

McCoy almost smiled. "I haven't been called that at all outside of rounds," he confessed. "I think people here forget that I'm one of those who came here with a degree."

"Three degrees if my memory serves correct," Spock added. "You earned your bachelor's in biology, then dual-degrees for a master's in public health and the MD. Impressive, if I may say so."

"Thanks," was all McCoy could say. He knew he was flushing slightly.

"All of which make me wonder," Spock continued, "why you are taking this course. It is hardly complementary to the program of study you have chosen, focusing on the hard sciences. You could have chosen other, less demanding courses to satisfy the language requirement or taken the opt-out examination. You are fluent in Spanish, are you not?"

"Sí, profesor, viví en Sudamérica un rato" McCoy answered, with more than a little smugness.

"Yet you chose Vulcanese, a language with an unfamiliar alphabet and alien pronunciation techniques, taught by a hard-ass hobgoblin, no less. Surely you did not expect an easy A."

McCoy's eyes widened. "I apologize for my language, sir," he almost whispered. "I can only say I was annoyed, but that doesn't excuse my conduct." He fully expected a reprimand, possibly a written one.

Spock saw that McCoy never looked away from him but kept his eyes focused on his face. He wasn't trying to weasel out of a reprimand. That pleased him. "Apology accepted. Take the film tickets. You may learn more than a few language tips. And please, Doctor, do not hesitate to call on Uhura or myself for tutoring assistance. It is part of our duties." He held out an envelope to McCoy.

McCoy accepted it. "Thank you sir. Now I just need to find a date to take with me." He spoke in Vulcanese and, Spock noted, guessed on an alternative for the word 'date.'

Spock thought for a moment. Was the doctor now trying to engage in conversation? If so, this was even more pleasing. "You are welcome. But the word you chose for 'date' is not acceptable. There is actually no concept of this in Vulcanese. I would suggest the word 'companion.' "

" 'Companion,' then. But I still don't know who I could invite."

"Come to a bull session," Spock suggested. "Although it is mostly students in my advanced classes who attend, a few from the Introductory class often come. Perhaps one of them would be amenable to accompany you. Cadet Uhura can provide you with the necessary details."

"Thanks, I think I will. But will I be able to understand what everyone is talking about, if it's all advanced students there?"

"At the very least, I am told that the meal I serve is appreciated."

McCoy almost smiled. "Well I'm not one to turn down good food, especially with the swill they serve at mess."

Spock made a few corrections to McCoy's syntax. "All who wish to practice their Vulcanese are welcome," he added. "The sustenance is part of the adventure, of course."

"May I ask you something?" Spock switched back to Standard. McCoy nodded.

"This is something I already inquired about. Why are you taking this course at all, when your Spanish is more than adequate to satisfy the language requirement, and why did you not choose to audit it?

McCoy sighed. "I'll answer your second question first. I really, really didn't think this would be so difficult. I've never been in an introductory class that's so hard."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "But I like it, I really do enjoy this class," McCoy added. "It's nice to be with students who aren't as egotistical as we doctors, and be with people who want to learn, not just outdo one another." Well, most of them were there to learn, he thought to himself. "It's good to be away from those cutthroat doctors strutting around the sickbay for at least one class."

Was that amusement he saw flash in Spock's eyes?

"As for the first question, I'll be completely straight with you."

"Straight?" Spock was confused. Was McCoy homosexual? He had no problem with that, he just assumed—illogically—that the doctor was heterosexual.

"Honest, I mean," McCoy clarified. "I took the class because I wanted to study you."

"Explain."

McCoy spoke rapidly. "The medical training here exposes us to many humanoid and alternate life forms. I've had my fill of Cardassians, Klingons, Ferengis, you name it, but training for treating Vulcans is close to nothing. I'm guessing it's part of the whole cultural sensitivity stuff but that doesn't help me learn how I'm supposed to treat Vulcan patients, their unique genetics, physiology, and so forth.

"If I am to be an effective doctor, I'll have to figure out a way to get training on Vulcan itself. First step: study a Vulcan, observe how you move, breathe, and so on-and try to learn the language.

"I know you're a high-born Vulcan, the first to graduate from the Academy and the first to serve in Starfleet. That means, logically, that more Vulcans will follow your example and turn to Starfleet for careers. I know for a fact that there will be two freshmen from Vulcan in next year's entering class. Yet there is next to no information taught about Vulcan medicine anywhere, outside of Vulcan and I guess, Romulus."

"I want to be the first Starfleet doctor with real knowledge of Vulcan physiology and medicine." He stopped to take a breath. "And I need to learn this crazy language of yours before I can even think about asking for permission to train on Vulcan."

"So this class is part of a career plan," Spock observed. "To be the first. Fascinating approach."

"Yes, I guess it is."

"Quite human."

"And Vulcan, I'd venture to say. At least among present company."

Spock did that eyebrow thing from class. McCoy laughed. "Oh, come on, Commander, everyone knows you turned down Vulcan Science to come here. Here, you'd be the first for everything, but there, you're just another genius Vulcan among a bunch of genius Vulcans." He leaned forward and spoke in Vulcanese. "And I'll tell you another thing everyone talks about: you were rewarded, shall we say, by more attention from the ladies because you're so interesting to them."

Spock corrected McCoy's erroneous use of the phrase 'shall we say.' "It is an illogical addition to your statement. Vulcanese is an efficient language."

McCoy switched back to Standard. "But you don't deny it? That you had your pick of girlfriends?"

Spock's eyes narrowed. Had the Doctor interacted with Captain Pike? This conversation sounded too familiar. "What I did, Doctor, was treat everyone with respect. I never cease to be amazed by the way many males on Terra use disrespectful language to and about their female peers. It is not only humans who do so. Romulans, for example, are notoriously rude to females, even their mates, and I do not have to tell you about Ferengis."

"Are you saying that everyone is treated equally on Vulcan?"

"What I am saying is that interactions between the sexes is more respectful on Vulcan. I merely carried over what came naturally, logically, to Terra. If that was pleasing to my female colleagues…all I can say is, the men could have simply observed and followed."

"Well, I'm always complimented on being a gentleman, and I'm always treated like a big brother, not a potential boyfriend," McCoy complained. "I mean, if my best chance to get a date is to attend a Vulcan bull session, I really am in trouble!"

Spock's mouth turned up slightly. "May I make a suggestion?" he asked.

"Anything, except don't tell me become a vegetarian. I'm not that sensitive."

"Do not speak of your divorce. I have heard from a trusted authority that it is a 'turn-off'."

"Who told you that? Jim Kirk?"

"The Boy?" Absolutely not. I have no contact with Cadet Kirk other than his two failed attempts with the Kobayashi Maru."

"Wait a minute—the Boy? Where did that come from?"

"Cadet Kirk pesters Cadet Uhura on a regular basis to accompany him to any number of venues, including his quarters. She has consistently refused. She has even gone as far as to introduce him to several of her female friends in the hopes of distracting him."

"OK, then, but why do you call him 'the Boy'?"

"It is a joke between myself and Cadet Uhura. I once referred to him as a boy and the name stuck."

McCoy was impressed. He planned to use the moniker with Jim, too.

"I apologize if I insulted your friend. It was, however, intended."

McCoy laughed. "You really can't stand him, can you?"

"I do not understand him. He is here at least once a day when Cadet Uhura is attending to her teaching assistant duties. He interrupts her work, and disregards her requests that he leave her alone. I have chased him out of here eight times this semester."

McCoy was now shaking with laughter. "I heard about that! I would've killed to have seen this!"

"I was also most distressed when Uhura informed me about the time he groped her during a bar fight."

"Now wait a minute there. I have friends who were there at the time. It was more like Jim was shoved in her direction and he was just…grasping for something to hold onto."

Spock glared at him. Clearly, the talk about Vulcans and possessiveness had an element of truth. So what was going on between him and Uhura?

"About my talking about my divorce. I don't do that, at least not often."

"I am informed that you do this extensively when you have partaken alcoholic beverages."

"Shit, you're probably right. Excuse me, sir, I didn't mean to cuss."

"No worries. But I have observed that some humans tend to dwell on negative emotions when they are drinking alcohol. You appear to be one of those."

No worries? Another Uhura phrase.

"I'll have to ask Nyota and Jim to tell me when to shut up."

"They are your usual companions when you go out in the evenings?"

"Yes." Spock stored that information for later use. If Uhura genuinely wanted the Boy to leave her alone, why was she socializing with him at all? It was most illogical. Unless Kirk tagged along, which was certainly plausible.

"We still have not solved your dating dilemma," Spock said solemnly.

McCoy looked at him and started to laugh. "I can't believe I'm getting dating advice from a Vulcan."

"Why is that? Do you think that Vulcans do not have social interactions?"

"You're just told me there is no concept of dating!"

"Well, yes, but we do have lots of holidays and other opportunities to interact with the opposite sex. And, as you pointed out, I was not exactly wanting for female attention as a student here." Immediately, he thought of Nyota. She must be wondering what they were talking about for so long.

"So what do you suggest, Commander of Hearts?"

"Continue to be polite and do all the things women tell you they like about you. Cease speaking of your former wife. Above all else, refrain from speaking unless and until you are expected to do so. Women enjoy speaking without interruption. Let them do this. Let them take charge in that area."

"That's it? That's your advice? My mother could have told me this."

"This is exactly what my mother told me. It worked for me. And my mother is Human."

"I didn't know that. Huh. It must be tough for her to be the only human on Vulcan."

"It is but my father's work often brings them to Terra."

"But you went to primary school on Vulcan."

"Affirmative." Spock paused. "You are starting to sound like some of my female friends trying to obtain personal information."

"I see what you mean."

"Yes, and this is where things can get, I believe the right word is, 'tricky.' "

McCoy laughed. "My life is already an open book. But I get your point, or should I say, Nyota's point. I'll do less talking and bitching and try to be a better listener. But I'll be real mad if I'm still living like a monk next semester!"

"And perhaps you should consider lowering your consumption of alcoholic beverages to control any observations you have about your former wife. It has been my experience that the company of women, especially Human women, is far more stimulating than any intoxicant," Spock observed. He paused. "And who is to say monks live dull lives? Many of them earn their keep by brewing beer and spirits, an activity I understand is a hobby among many in the medical and engineering professions."

McCoy shook his head. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation with my Vulcan instructor."

Spock stood up. "I have to prepare for a class that begins in 30 minutes and 42 seconds. Our meeting must come to an end."

McCoy gathered his book bag. "This has been the strangest meeting I've ever had with an instructor," he said. "But it's certainly been enlightening. Thanks very much for the meeting, Commander, and the tickets. I'll see you in class."

"Good-by Dr. McCoy."

"See ya, Len," Nyota called out from an unoccupied office, where she had settled in while Spock's office was closed. McCoy walked over and leaned against the doorframe. "This wasn't what I expected," he said. "He's actually…nice...and tries to be… personable."

Nyota chuckled. "I've been training him."

"You do well, Miss Uhura."

She rose and walked to his office.

"Well that went on for some time," she said from the doorway.

He looked at her and his lips curved upward ever so slightly. His eyes smiled at her. "It certainly did, ashayam."

"I heard laughing. Len isn't someone who laughs a lot."

"It must be the excellent tutoring in student relations I have received this semester." He walked over to her, pressed the panel to close the door and put his arms around her.

She reached up and gently caressed his ears, eliciting a small, happy moan from him. "I'm sure I'll be hearing all about this," she teased. "The hobgoblin isn't all that bad!"

"Commander of Hearts," he corrected her in Vulcanese, as he bent his head down to kiss her. "Ashayam, you may have taught me too well. McCoy reacted every time I used one of your endearing patterns of speech. He must know you quite well. I believe he may suspect something. We must be very careful and get through your graduation."

She kissed him back. "That is a very logical course to take. But don't worry too much about Len. He's the type to hold his tongue."

He started to ask about why McCoy would reach for his tongue and remind her that Vulcans do not worry.

She interrupted him.

"Who knows, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

A/N: I'm sure you can recognize the source of the title. It occurred to me that the Spock/McCoy friendship has some similarities between Rick and Capt. Renault, particularly the friendly back-and-forth sniping.