Disclaimer: Not mine

At the quiet swish of the turbolift doors, Kirk craned his neck, eager to see who had arrived. Another nondescript red shirt. He sighed. The latest report lay in his lap, but he scrolled through the pages aimlessly, his mind fixated on a large crispy bacon cheeseburger with onion rings… McCoy had probably blocked the option from his meal card. Still, a man could fantasize, couldn't he? Deep-fried, greasy, golden rings… and the cheese had oozed off the burger ever so slightly so that it gently kissed the plate, the thick tomatoes and crunchy lettuce winking out from beneath a lightly toasted bun, the inch thick sirloin burger…

He shook his head, trying to force himself back into some semblance of concentration. He would not call Spock. The poor guy asked for so little, and did so much –Spock deserved a break. And if that break happened to take another two hours, well, Kirk would just sit here and read some more reports.

Swish. In a dignified, captainly manner, Kirk nearly gave himself whiplash to get a view of the doors. Blue shirt, black hair, stony expression– in strode his missing first officer.

His stomach gave a rumble of relief. "Welcome back, Mr. Spock. How'd it go?"

Impassive as always, the Vulcan quickly crossed the floor to stand by Kirk's chair. "My rest period was appropriately satisfactory, Captain." Leaning in, he spoke in an undertone. "However, had I known your dire need for sustenance, I would have waited for my appointed time."

Kirk fought the urge to squirm in his seat like a guilty child. He'd bet two months pay McCoy had a hand in this. "It's not dire," he objected. "I'm fine."

"Dr. McCoy has contacted me." Kirk saw steel in Spock's eyes, and the captain knew he was busted. "You should not have put your health at risk to favor me. The length of time you have gone without nourishment is unacceptable for a Starfleet officer under non-emergency circumstances."

"I am fine," he insisted feebly. "I was happy to give you the time." Kirk's stomach chose that inopportune moment to growl. Loudly.

Spock's eyebrows approached the ceiling. "Thank you, captain. I must now insist that you take the time to refresh and nourish yourself."

Sliding out the chair, Kirk decided to stop explaining and beat a hasty retreat. "On my way, commander."

o0o0o

Spock sank into the still-warm chair. The captain's disregard for himself, while morally praiseworthy, created no end of problems for his first officer. Spock would have to impress a sense of self-caring into Jim, or someday the captain would overtax his resources.

Placing those thoughts aside, Spock quickly glanced around the bridge. All systems normal, all personnel engaged or lethargically minding their consoles. A brief call to Nyota would not be out of order. Besides, if he did not inform her of Mr. Scott's plans, they all faced dire consequences.

His fingers danced over the in-chair comm. "Spock to Uhura."

A faint, low voice crawled out of the speaker. "…yes?"

In his mind, Spock constructed a logical image based on Nyota's sound. Her pillow muffled her voice because she'd crammed her head in it, one arm apathetically stretched to hit the comm button, and the rest of her body lay thoroughly tangled in a deep nest of blankets.

Pity was an emotion.

He declined to ask after Nyota's health; he was already aware of her probable answer. A short conversation would serve them both better. "I have reached the bridge. Mr. Sulu, Mr. Chekov, and Mr. Scott were all concerned about your condition."

"That's sweet of them. Did you tell them it's just a cold?"

Spock steepled his fingers, a time-honored position for deep, clear thinking. This required delicate phrasing. "They are aware of your status. They also had several suggestions for improving your comfort. Mr. Scott wishes to make changes to your environmental controls."

"Oh. Ok." She sounded less than enthusiastic. "Have him call and talk to me about them."

He remained silent.

"…Scotty's on his way to make the changes right now, isn't he?"

"Yes, there is a high probability that is the case." Closing his eyes (not out of anxiety; deprivation of sight often sharpened hearing), he waited for her reaction.

She sighed. "The boys can do whatever they want. Just as long as there's no noise."

Spock's eyes opened. "Understood," he replied softly. "Is your head paining you?"

Her answer creaked out in the affirmative. "It's my sinuses," she added. "Hypos aren't helping."

"According to Mr. Chekov, massaging the big toe can relieve sinus pressure. The concept does not seem sound, however, if you have already tried traditional medicine-"

"I never say no to a footrub, Mr. Spock." Now he heard a smile in her voice. "We should try it. Besides, think how happy Pavel will be if it works."

"I believe you may derive some enjoyment from the experiment as well." At her slight display of cheer, he experienced… an increase of positivity. He decided this was logical. Negative emotions decreased the body's immune response. The happier Nyota was, the less strain on her immune system, the sooner she would recover, and the sooner the ship would return to normal functioning.

Uhura laughed. "Well, it'll be a sacrifice for me… but it's for science."

"Your attitude is quite praiseworthy." Their conversation had continued for four minutes now; he determined that was long enough. Nyota needed her rest, and Kirk had no doubt left him a few reports to finish. "I must tend to the bridge. I shall see you when my shift has ended."

"I'm holding you to that footrub, Spock. Uhura out."

Thank you for the reviews! I love them more than sunshine and fuzzy animals! I apologize for the delay in updates; I've been in finals, and I'm going on a trip to Europe in less than two weeks. (PM me if you have any travel suggestions!) So, um, the next update might be some time from now -just a warning. :)