Wow, that's a lot of reviews! Thanks, everyone! I can tell you're apparently wigged out... don't worry, you're not alone. I've centered on a direction for this to follow, so it won't just be aimless mystery without resolve. Thanks again for the reviews!
Captain's Log, Stardate 6412.1: We remain in orbit around the planet M2-675 to wrap up the ecological study of its plant/animal hybrid before sailing for Starbase 15. Bio & Life Sciences have been handling the situation beautifully, and oddly to the letter. In the meantime, crew evaluations have finally been completed and submitted. Everyone checks out normal, except for Chief Medical Officer McCoy. Everyone is still at a loss to explain his unusual behavior. He's suddenly become… formal. Very formal. And quiet. Mr. Spock has noticed as well and has attempted to engage him in one of their spirited debates, but the doctor refuses all advances. It's… unnerving. However, it should be of no danger to the ship; weirdly enough he's become the textbook example of a Starfleet officer. While that may be beneficial to the crew on paper, it's just not McCoy. I admit that I am concerned.
"Mr. Spock," Kirk said, swiveling in his chair. "Meet me in the briefing room in three minutes; I have some things I would like to discuss with you."
"Certainly, Captain." Spock finished calibrating his scanner and walked off the bridge shortly after Kirk. When he arrived at the briefing room, it was just the two of them.
"Okay, it's been a week now," Kirk started immediately. "With no change. Something's wrong."
"I assume you are speaking of Dr. McCoy?" Spock clarified.
Kirk nodded. "He's been…" he searched for the right words and found that it was difficult to come up with them. Some officials would view McCoy's change as a distinct improvement. There were no more challenges to authority, no more growling attitudes to keep someone still for their physical, no more blunt questions and comments, and, come to think of it, almost no input at all except when asked. The problem was, that wasn't McCoy.
"He's different," Kirk settled. "Almost unmotivated. He doesn't volunteer anything, he keeps a strict, polite demeanor; Spock, he doesn't even complain. I was in the transporter room for the last beam-down and do you know what I saw? He didn't say one word. Just shut his mouth and stepped up on the pad."
Spock nodded. "I've also noticed that I'm no longer a 'pointy-eared, green-blooded computer'. He also no longer contradicts logic." While Spock thought he would have found such a scenario pleasing, it was more disturbing than delightful.
"Yes," Kirk paced the room. "What could have caused this, Spock?"
The Vulcan considered the facts. "It did not happen gradually; the change was abrupt."
"Could bad news from home be responsible for this?" Kirk questioned.
Spock hesitated, but shook his head. "I have already asked Uhura to compile a list of communications with the doctor that occurred one week ago. Other than medical communications with Starbase 15, there has been no communications with him, either official or personal."
Kirk pursed his lips. "Hmm. Well, it's true that if it's bad news he normally squelches it and opens some booze; he has a tendency to ignore protocol more in those cases, certainly not overdo it. I suppose we can scratch that off our list. What else?"
Spock thought some more. "Something external could be affecting him. If that is the case, then it would be possible to correct the problem."
Kirk's eyes gleamed. "Really, Spock?" he said. "Tell me more."
Nurse Chapel was about to go out of her mind. It was a slow day in Sickbay, but the tedium was made worse as McCoy went about fixing everything. He organized the cabinets, straightened the supplies, inventoried the medicines a dozen times over, and she had no idea what became of his liquor cabinet.
"Doctor," she approached him, putting her hands on her hips. "Why don't you take a break and run to the mess hall, or to the gym?" Anywhere other than here. "There's nothing else to do."
"I can't do that, Nurse," McCoy said. "My shift doesn't end until 2100. Until then, I can't desert my post."
"Desert your-!" Chapel stopped before she could incriminate herself. "Fine. But at least leave some work around here for me to do." She spun and left the room, marching into Sickbay's main ward.
She was still fuming and confused when Lt. Hedgerow walked in. She smiled. "Hi, Allison. How are you?"
The lieutenant shrugged. "Bored, I guess. Since I'm technically resigned I can't do anything around here."
Chapel chuckled, remembering when Hedgerow came into Sickbay a week and a half ago. It had been a private matter, but whatever it was about caused her to submit in her resignation. Chapel knew she and others were going to miss the bubbly, level-headed girl, but she seemed at peace with her decision. More or less.
Hedgerow bit her lip. "Um, is Dr. McCoy in?" she asked quietly.
Chapel sighed. "He certainly is." She motioned to the back. "Please go see him before he scrubs the entire Sickbay with a toothbrush. You're not the only one who's bored around here."
Hedgerow smiled and shuffled in the direction she indicated. Several minutes later she exited, thanking Dr. McCoy.
"Just doing my job," he assured her.
"But thanks, again," she said. She left Sickbay.
"Nurse Chapel," McCoy said. "Let me know if you get a call from the lieutenant later, I'll have to take it as a house call."
"Y-yes, Doctor," she stammered, utterly baffled. Since when do you take house calls? "I'll let you know."
"Thank you." He retreated back into Sickbay.
Later, when he left at exactly 2100 instead of sticking around past his shift like usual, she patched in an urgent call to the captain.
"Captain Kirk? Mr. Spock? I need to talk with you now."
Yes. Yes, talk. Form plans. Take action. Bones clearly needs it. Or something like that. Some more action in the next chapter, so stay tuned! And please review! I won't keep you in dire straits for too long... maybe. Thanks!