Doctor McCoy knew full well that he had to start meditating in his own quarters, building the habit and improving his technique for the more complex meld work to be done later. S'vik had all but locked him in his rooms and yelled at him to get to it. It was – much as he hated to borrow from Spock – the only logical thing to do.

Nevertheless, looking at his floor, all he could think of were the hundreds of things he'd rather be doing.

'Well, here goes.' He didn't move. 'No reason not to try meditating on my own. Besides, it'll be less distracting without Spock and S'vik hovering… Maybe I should quickly review Sickbay's treatments for today. Can't have M'benga making any mistakes, and – no. Get this over with. Come on, this'll be easy. I just have to sit down and relax right… now!' His left foot shifted halfheartedly. 'What's wrong with me? Screw it. I might as well do something more constructive.'

He headed to his computer, taking only seconds to pull up and dive into the kind of paperwork he'd ordinarily dismiss as pencil pushing nonsense. It was, if nothing else, a phenomenal distraction and a better excuse. After all, what would Spock say if he caught him? "Stop doing your job?" 'Of course, he'd find some Vulcan way to make following regulations look 'illogical'. Not that he'd be wrong, of course. I'm supposed to be meditating.'

He was going to get up. He really was. But there were only a few more reports to finish, and he'd already admitted he was procrastinating. Considering that admitting it was half the problem, he'd really put in all the effort expected. 'So what if it's a flimsy excuse? It's not like I'm doing nothing.'

He was almost thankful when the door chimed. 'Probably one of the Vulcans here to nag me.' He could feel his eyebrows lift in an absurd parody of Spock's when James Kirk walked in.

"Hi, Bones. You busy?" He was putting up a good front, but the wariness showed in his neutral stance and carefully even tone.

"Not at all, Jim. Come in." A quick beckon later, Kirk was inside. 'Now, what does he want?' "Something I can help you with?"

He snorted. "In a manner of speaking. I was wondering how long you're going to be my 'part time' CMO. It's not exactly regulation."

"Since when have you cared about that?"

"Since when have I been in your room for more than five seconds on personal business without a drink in my hand?"

"Oh, that's what you're here for. Why didn't you just say so? I've got some passable Saurian brandy here, and Scotty gave me a bottle of scotch for my birthday. Let's see, where is it…" His voice tapered off, sliding into the opened desk drawer. It took him a few seconds longer than usual to fiddle with the bottle and pour his captain a drink. 'I'm not stalling. Whatever this is, I can deal with it. That's why I'm not stalling.' It took him a few seconds to realize that he'd handed the drink off and Jim was giving him a strange look in return.

"Something wrong, Jim?"

"Sorry." He smirked and took a drink. "I've just never seen you so quiet."

"Quiet? Since when?"

"That's the second time you've said 'since when' this conversation. You're not just quiet; you're repetitive."

"Very funny." 'Why's he still standing?' "Take a seat, why don't you?"

"Thought you'd never ask." He took another sip of the brandy. "Smooth. Where did you say you bought this?"

"Starbase 317. I've got a friend there."

"Hmm." The look on his face said clearly that he knew there was a problem with the regulations somewhere, but he couldn't be bothered to figure it out. "So, how's the meditation going?"

"Fine. Very… fine."

"See what I mean about you being quiet? I'd rather not do this in mime."

"Well, if you insist: I was just doing some paperwork to put it off."

"Tsk, tsk. My CMO ignoring his prescription. You know, if you weren't technically on active duty, I'd have M'Benga make it a medical order." He reached for the bottle. McCoy quickly drew back, grabbing Kirk's glass to fill it himself. 'Like that'll work.' "Seriously, though, Bones, what's the problem?"

"Dunno."

"C'mon, you can do better than that."

"I said I don't know!" Realizing that he'd just snapped at his C.O., he took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry. Just a bit edgy."

"Can't see why when you have nothing but relaxing paperwork as far as the eye can see." A smirk and a shade of a wink were enough to assure McCoy that his apology had been accepted. Kirk shrugged. "Whatever. If you don't want to talk about it, we might as well enjoy this fine Saurian brandy… That is what this is, isn't it?"

"Of course. Only the finest." 'As far as I know. Really need to check the stuff when I get it.' "Say, have you talked to Uhura lately? She's seemed a bit unfocused, and I was planning to have her in for a checkup."

"You really are bouncing off the walls. She isn't showing signs of anything that – "

"How would you know? Get your degree while I've been out sick?"

"Alright, alright. Suppose I should just be glad it's her you want instead of me. In any case, you're not 'out sick.' You're on a bit of a reduced schedule, but there's still plenty of work to complain about. Just because I'm not injured…"

"No one's more thrilled about that than I am. Do you have any idea how impossible it is to get you to hold still?" Much to his surprise, McCoy noticed both their glasses were empty. He couldn't remember either taking a drink. 'Better refill.'

When Kirk left almost an hour later, he carried a third of the bottle with him. The other two thirds went into creating a light, relaxed feeling that almost reminded him of the meditative state. It reminded him that he'd doubtless made any sort of meditation pointless.

'The hell with them. I'm plenty relaxed, and whatever they did's sticking. It's no big deal… Still, no reason not to repeat that stupid phrase S'vik gave me.'

He worked on and off for another three hours. Any crewmember passing close enough to hear – of which, fortunately, there were none – would've been mystified to hear the ship's CMO muttering about annelids' urinary tracts.

I'd like to formally apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I have no idea what happened. The last 300 words just dragged on for weeks, even though I had nothing to do. I'll try to get the next one in in a more reasonable timeframe.