1,000 Light Years

by

A Vulcan's Kiss

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Prompt 2: Teach Me

Doctor McCoy honestly didn't think of himself as the type of man to treat a patient badly, no matter how infuriating they were. Neither did he think himself the type to willingly ask Spock to teach him something. And he hadn't thought that if he were to ask to be taught anything, that it'd be meditating.

But today, he found himself doing all those things.

. . .

Doctor Leonard McCoy's day hadn't began with a good start, hell, he can't even remember the last time one did. But today's morning was particularly worse then usual, not only was he awoken at 04:00 hours by an insistent knocking at his door, but when he got up and opened it no one was there. Nothing but what McCoy assumed to be the drunken laughter of that damn Russian ensign as it floated down the hallway and away from his room.

This was the third time the Russian decided to do a hit and run with McCoy's door. If the navigator did it again, well, he'd encounter a hit and run with McCoy's fist and a hypo-spray up his hindquarters. That was just how Mr. Leonard McCoy dealt with things, after all. With these revengeful thoughts in his head McCoy returned to his bed and attempted to get the last three hours of his well deserved rest before he had to wake up and start his day.

Alas, like all things concerning the good Doctor, it seemed, what he wanted refused present itself.

Instead of getting a good few hours of shut-eye he spent the whole night trying to, in what ended up being a hopeless endeavor and an utter waste of his time.

One moment he'd be cursing his covers, because they must have been the spawn of the devil to be as uncomfortable and hot as they were. The next moment he'd be cursing himself, because god damn it all to hell, now was not the time to be thinking about his ex-wife or his daughter. Now was the time to sleep, but apparently his mind didn't agree with that and rather enjoyed this game of "Annoy the McCoy" and didn't plan to stop playing anytime soon.

Surprisingly, when his alarm rung at 07:00 hours he didn't throw it at the wall like he'd wanted to; even though he felt the act would have been completely justifiable and a great stress reliever.

Instead he took a deep breath, trudged out of bed for the second time that day, promptly shut off said alarm and got ready for work.

Afterwards, as he was walking out of his rooms and toward Sickbay he made a pact with himself that despite the dreadful start to his day he'd make the best of it. He was Leonard Horatio McCoy, damn it, and he'd dealt with a lot worse then mere 'lack of sleep.'

And for the most part he'd done a pretty good job of living up to the deal he'd made with himself. It was now minutes from the end of his shift and he hadn't had a single problem yet... yet. Of course, right after he thought that he didn't just have a single problem, but a whole string of them.

That damn Russian ensign who started all of this came in wanting a cure for his "wery ba' headache." Headache meaning "hangower", as he would have said. And in proper McCoy fashion he kicked the foreigner out of his Sickbay and refused.

But, as fate decided, that wouldn't be the end of it.

The little twerp just went and got his friend, Sulu, and came back, both of them now begging and pleading for something to help the "poor guy's headache." Chekov pleading because he was the one who owned the currently throbbing head, Sulu because he was fed up listening to the man's complaining on the deck and just wanted him to stop.

It got to the point that their pleas became so loud and obnoxiously boisterous that his nurse, Christine Chapel, paused in her work of taking care of a patient and joined the discussion too. But not on McCoy's side, oh, no. Theirs.

There was a point in Doctor McCoy's body, that when encountered and tempted, caused him to explode.

And as McCoy valiantly attempted to will away his own oncoming headache the combined voices of the three around him just became to much for him to handle and that point was reached. The kettle sung and McCoy exploded.

In a few seconds flat he'd grabbed a hypospray, filled it with the correct concoction, stabbed it in the shoulder of the godforsaken ensign and screamed;

"Get out! Get out! Get out! GET OUT!"

Silence filled the room and McCoy almost sighed in appreciation of it; but instead he violently pushed the navigator and Sulu toward the door with a shove and afterward collapsed on an empty bed with audible groan.

Nurse Chapel just stared at the doctor for a few moments, looked at the duo whom hovered nervously by the entryway then turned on her heel and went back to her patient.

Chekov and Sulu didn't do anything for a couple more moments, just stared at each other for some time until Chekov tugged on the hand of his friend and walked out. Not until after saying;

"Doktor, you seem stress'. Perhaps you shou' med-a-tate, the Wulcan could teash you, I bet."

For awhile after that the Doctor just sat there, his head in his hands, pondering over the events that had just passed.

Which in hindsight wasn't an intelligent idea, and in a few short minutes he'd worked himself up again and into a right furious state.

Looking at the clock hung on the wall McCoy saw that his shift was over and left with nothing but a harsh shout to Christine and a head full of angry contempt and exhaustion.

With those last words of the ensign rolling around in his mind, McCoy steered his way through the corridors of the ship with a good idea of where he was headed. And so it came as no surprise to him when he found himself at the door of Spock's room with only one thought in his mind.

"Teach me!" McCoy shouted, barging into the Vulcan's quarters. Frustration evident as he roughly grabbed the shoulders of the pointy-eared devil and shook him just as hard. Had Spock been anybody else the gripping fingers may have hurt, but instead his mind is suddenly flooded by the intense thoughts of the irate man rather then pain.

And with those few short moments of McCoy touching him he knows everything he needs to, such as what McCoy wants to be taught exactly, without asking. So, he just stares calmly into the swirling blue orbs of the vexed man, stoically grabs each offending wrist belonging to the the doctor, removes them and whispers;

"Let us begin."

...

Sneakpeek:

Next Chapter: Prompt 3 - "Overcoming Fear" ft. Chekov

The other day when Sulu had asked Chekov if he was scared of the dark the ensign had hastily stammered "N-no!" accompanied by a pink flush and a duck of his head. A bold-faced lie.

Still, there was a certain truth to his fib; the Russian wasn't scared of the dark, oh no. He was terrified of it.

You wouldn't think that working on the Enterprise would help matters much, because out in space the lights were always out.

But surprisingly working as the ships navigator was just what he needed to overcome his fear.

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~A Vulcan's Kiss