So I got AWESOME feedback for the first chapter, and this idea came to me last night. I thought I'd post it before it ran away from me, because, unfortunately, my idea cage isn't big enough to keep this one in check for long.

Enjoy the goodness, and please, if I make any mistakes don't hesitate to let me know. I deeply cherish your feedback.

::WARNING:: Rated T for Bones' foul language. You have been warned.

A/N: This is obviously not true to canon, because if it was, I wouldn't have to write it because it'd already be in the movie. If you're canon-obsessed, leave now.


Operation "Fake-illness"

Spock marched determinedly down the halls leading to Medbay. He'd made up his mind the second the words left Jim's mouth. It was now or never. He stood outside the doors and prepared himself for what was sure to be an embarrassing next hour, if he could pull this off. He held his chin down, put a limp in his step, and started breathing jaggedly. This was going to work.

"Spock, what the hell are you doing in here?" McCoy walked briskly to the Vulcan's side, PADD in one hand.

"Doctor, I fear I may be...somewhat, to use a terrain phrase, 'under the weather'." McCoy's thick eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Spock had never willingly come to him for medical attention, mainly because he never needed it. McCoy saw him once a year for his physical examination.

"Under the weather?" He jerked his head toward a bed. "Sit."

Spock wandered over to the bed slowly, his shoulders hunched over. His slow pace was making him impatient, but he knew it would all be worth it in the end. He slid himself up on to the bed the way he had seen Jim do when he wasn't feeling good, and was satisfied to see sincere concern on McCoy's handsome face.

"Alright, symptoms."

"Pardon?" Bones rolled his eyes and stood in front of Spock with his tricorder.

"Tell me your damn symptoms." He started to scan Spock slowly, and the Vulcan felt a sense of what could most closely be compared to human dread. He forgot about the tricorder. But maybe if he increased his heart rate enough, he could trick his body into showing some symptoms.

"Well...I appear to be sweating much more than I usually do. I have had reoccurring issues with my lungs. I cannot breath properly."

"Anything else?" His voice was unusually rough, even for him. He continued to scan slowly, his eyes never leaving the tricorder in his hand.

"I...am having trouble thinking straight." He knew this tid-bit of information would bother the Doctor a lot, since Spock rarely had trouble with his mind. McCoy placed the tricorder on the bed next to Spock and walked away. He came back with a small kit and a few tubes.

"I believe you have the common flu. I need to give you a vaccine. It should work pretty fast." He pushed the liquid from a tube into the hypo and jammed it into Spock's neck. The Vulcan took the hypo like a man, knowing that he would regret it later. It was all in the name of Jim, though.

"Alright, you can go." Bones only turned away half-way, like he expected Spock to stay. The Vulcan got off the bed slowly, dissatisfied with the turn of events, and tried to walk forward, but he was instantly hit with a wave of chills and fell back on the bed, gripping at the sheets.

His head started to pound excessively, and he had to work harder to breathe.

"D-doctor?" His voice came out sounding raspy and rough. McCoy peered over his PADD like he was just realizing that Spock was still there.

"Looks like you're having a reaction to the vaccine. Must be because you're Vulcan." McCoy's tone was abnormal for a doctor who was witnessing his patient fall to pieces.

Actually, it is because I was not sick to begin with.

But he wouldn't tell McCoy that. He would sit still and let the good doctor treat him.

"Here, this should get rid of those side-effects." Another hypo to the neck made Spock choke in surprise. Almost immediately the chills went away, but he was left with a thin sheen of sweat on his face.

"How's that?"

"Bett-" Before Spock could get the entire word out, his stomach cramped up and his head began to spin. Not knowing what else to do, he lay down on the bed and clutched at his stomach. Doctor McCoy appeared above him with another hypo in his hand and Spock groaned.

"This one will ease the stomach pains, don't worry." He attacked Spock with the hypo and the man gasped as it penetrated his skin painfully. McCoy went to retrieve another hypo, and as he walked away he heard something that sounded suspiciously like "at what cost?"

"You see Spock," Stab. "when I was in my first year of Med School I learned what happens when you treat a person who doesn't need to be treated. Not a good idea. They start showing symptoms." Spock gripped at his pounding head. "Then you treat those symptoms with something else, and they go away. But new problems arise." Stab.

"So, the moral of the story is, never fake an illness around me. Because I won't just tell you to get your sorry ass out of here. I'll make you suffer."

McCoy stood back and handed the Vulcan a clean towel. Spock pressed it against his neck so wipe up the tiny droplets of green blood that began to break through from the amount of hypos used on him. Nine. At one time. He shuttered and tried to stand, but his body yearned for sleep.

"Now," McCoy said, eying his office longingly. "Get your sorry ass out of here."

All Spock wanted was to maybe have small talk with the doctor, but no. He had to go make things difficult.

All in the name of Jim.

Operation "Fake Illness": Failure


Not really sure how much I like this, but I'll leave that up to you. If anyone has any ideas for potential chapters, let me know in a review. I may use your idea in later chapters once mine run out XD Thanks so much for reading!