Odds and Speculation

Dr. Leonard McCoy's day had definitely started off right. He'd met Selina early for breakfast, as she had a morning meeting scheduled with a small group delegates. That had meant there were fewer crewmen around to cast jealous glances in his direction. Still, he'd take what he could get. And certainly he enjoyed the company of the lady herself. Not that he was going to fool himself into thinking she was there for any reason beyond getting early release from sickbay, but he'd never been so happy to accept a bribe. He'd even teased an interesting story about Spock out of her that he was definitely going to save for just the right moment.

"It has been delightful, Len, but I must head to my meeting," she said beginning to get up.

"Now you just hold on there a minute." He stood and came around to offer her his arm. "Since your parole depends on coddling that ankle, I'm gonna to have to insist that you let me walk you to your conference room."

She lifted an eyebrow at him, but obediently tucked her hand around his elbow. "You are a man of any talents, Len," she said with a touch of amusement in her voice. "I had not imagined you to be both a doctor and a walking stick."

"Only for the patients that make me smile." He turned to lead her toward the exit, just as Jim and Spock were entering by the other door. Spock stopped stalk still and raised an eyebrow at them, but Jim nearly tripped himself walking into the edge of a table. Score! Bones smiled in triumph over his shoulder as he practically promenaded her out the door.

Jim set his tray down opposite to Spock's. "Please tell me there is a logical explanation for that," he said, twitching his head toward the door McCoy and Selina had recently exited.

The Vulcan looked up from his breakfast. "There is a logical explanation for that," he said, and returned to eating his cereal.

There was a long pause as Jim waited for more. "What?"

Spock looked up at him again. "There is a logical explanation for that, Captain."

"Of all the times for you to develop a sense of humor," Jim groaned. Spock's face remained carefully blank.

"I mean," Jim said, "tell me what the logical explanation for that is."

Spock cocked an eyebrow at him and stirred his tea, considering how to respond.

"If you say 'I have no comment on the matter.', so help me, I am going to douse you with orange juice!" he warned, brandishing his glass of OJ.

Spock's mouth compressed in a slightly crooked line. "Forgive me, but Lt. Uhura has informed me that my 'inner over-protective big brother' ought to...I believe the phrase was 'chill out'...and refrain from commenting on Ms. Chandri's personal affairs." He returned again to his cereal.

"They're having an affair?" Jim whispered.

Spock's spoon stopped just above his bowl. Not a muscle in his face had moved, but Jim thought he suddenly looked a bit nauseated. The spoonful of cereal returned to the bowl uneaten. "I do not believe that I said anything of the sort," he replied stiffly.

"You don't like that idea." Jim grinned slyly. "What's the matter? Don't care for the prospect of having Bones for a brother-in-law?"

A look of horror very briefly flickered across the Vulcan's face. "Selina is highly unlikely to allow herself to become involved with a medical officer again. I calculate that there is less than a 1.2% probability that that is the explanation for what we witnessed this morning."

"See? That wasn't so hard." Jim smiled. He was gradually learning how to press the right buttons with Spock too. Then the smile faded. "...um...did you just say, 'again'?"

Spock just looked at him. He didn't say it, but 'I have no comment on the matter' was written all over his face.

Jim was not giving in that easily. He stared right back. Finally, Spock made a noise vaguely like a sigh of resignation. "Her reactions are sometimes difficult to predict. My confidence interval for that calculation is only 72.3%," he conceded. "However, she offered yesterday to have breakfast with the doctor in exchange for an early release from sickbay. It is most likely that she has continued to flirt with him primarily because I allowed her to become aware of the fact that I found it ...unpleasant."

Jim took a moment to parse that through his own half-coded Spock-to-human translator. "You told her you disapproved and so she's probably doing it just to show you that you have no say in the matter." He nearly giggled. "Jeez, no wonder Uhura told you to chill out and mind your own business."

Spock raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest. "I believe that is what I was attempting to do."

They were interrupted by Uhura's voice coming over the comm. "Capt. Kirk and Cmdr. Spock, please report to the Station security office."

.

Sam Giotto allowed Newcomb to lead the small party into Cargo Bay A-7 and fell to the back to walk beside Jessy.

"You owe me, Giotto," she whispered.

"I know, and I've got a bottle of Wild Turkey with your name on it," he whispered back.

"A bottle? If I finish this assignment without shoving him out an airlock, I want a collection of the good stuff to rival Mr. Scott's," she hissed.

Just ahead, Mr. Spock's head turned fractionally to the side. But it wasn't likely anyone else had heard. "God help us all if you and Scotty ever have a contest," Giotto mouthed back at her.

Newcomb led them toward a back corner of the bay where the station CMO was examining a body stashed between several crates. "Work crew found him this morning: Mr. Andrew Hodges, the front man for our bogus decorators."

"At least we know where he disappeared to," the Captain said.

Spock stepped forward to look at the corpse. "I assume you have determined cause of death, Doctor?"

Costellano looked up with an expression worthy of McCoy. "He was stabbed with a huge knife," the doctor said tersely, indicating the large dagger protruding from the man's chest.

"Indeed," Spock replied. "And have you ascertained any other facts?"

"He must have tried to fight back. There are defensive wounds on one hand and some sort of blood under his fingernails on the other. That should help us identify his attacker."

"We'll have to ask you to collect DNA from the Trubese delegates," Mr. Newcomb said.

"Only the Trubese?" Spock asked.

Mr. Newcomb clucked his tongue. "Well, I guess I couldn't expect even the famous Mr. Spock to recognize the make of that knife. It's a Trubese ceremonial dagger."

"On the contrary, Mr. Newcomb," Spock said, falling back into the manner of an Academy instructor, "I am well aware that it is a Trubese dagger of the sort reserved for ceremonial use by secondary chieftains of the Hrwar clan. However, it is illogical to assume that the being who wielded it in this instance was either a Hrwar chieftain or even Trubese. If the goal was to dispose of the body, then as Lt. Hanlan observed on our way to the scene, the most efficient method would have been to shove it out of an airlock."

Jessy blushed, but nodded agreement. She won't forget about that Vulcan hearing again, Giotto thought.

Mr. Newcomb shrugged. "You overestimate the intelligence of criminals, Mr. Spock."

Giotto smiled at the way a single lifted eyebrow conveyed the Vulcan's opinion of Mr. Newcomb's intelligence relative to the average criminal's. Judging by the smirk on his face, the Captain was thinking the same thing.

"In this case, Mr. Newcomb, the body appears to have been deliberately wedged between these crates to prevent it from being displaced," Spock continued. "And the blood beneath the victim's nails is quite dark. Trubese blood is a clear yellow. The evidence suggests that the body was planted here and this dagger used to misdirect suspicion to the Trubese."

"'Elementary my dear Watson! This is a set up." Spock lifted an eyebrow and Newcomb scowled at him, but the Captain just grinned at his own joke. That gold braid had its privileges. "Don't you have security monitors for these cargo bays? What did the vid show?"

"It showed someone who certainly looked Trubese forcing Hodges through the cargo bay hatchway at 02:30 last night," Newcomb huffed.

"Fascinating," Spock remarked. "Please provide a copy of the relevant video to Mr. Giotto. I shall be very interested to see what a thorough analysis might reveal."

"You'll have a full report on your desk by the end of beta shift, sir," Giotto said, trying to suppress a smile at Mr. Spock's implication that Newcomb's analysis had been anything but thorough. Newcomb was going to be insufferable after this, but for this moment of satisfaction he decided he was going to find out what Vulcans considered 'good stuff' and send him some.

.

Dr. McCoy was sitting at his desk when Jim bounded into his office.

"Hey, Bones! ...hmm...wait,...Bones, there's something wrong with your face." Jim tilted his head side to side, examining his friend. "I've got it! It's past noon and you're smiling."

"Oh, for the love of Pete!" McCoy rolled his eyes. "It's not that unusual. It's not like I'm Spock or something."

"No," Jim admitted. "No, Spock usually comes back from one of those private lunches with Uhura with something a lot closer to a smile than anyone's likely to see on your face this time of day."

Bones sat back, crossed his arms and gave Jim a very smug grin. "Well, just maybe my day started off well enough that I still feel like smilin' about it."

"Seriously?" Jim's smile slipped slightly. "Did you actually beat Spock's odds?"

"Odds?" He thought, not for the first time, that a conversation with Jim could be a lot like trying to track a march hare. "What in tarnation are you on about now?"

"That little scene at breakfast. But Spock figured there was only about a 1% chance that you and she..." Jim waggled his eyebrows.

"1%!" McCoy was indignant. "We flirt until he puts his damn reports down and goes into that trance just to not have to listen and I make a breakfast date with her right in front of him and the best he gives me is 1%!"

"Well, 1.2%." Jim's smile returned. "So, there's nothing actually going on between you two?" It wasn't really a question.

"I got breakfast, I got the satisfaction of getting under Spock's skin and I got a kiss on the cheek for playing my part so well," Bones replied proudly. "Damn sight better than you so far. I don't suppose Spock gave you your odds?"

"We were interrupted by a call from the station before I could ask," Jim said, changing the subject. "Which is why I came down here in the first place. Has Costellano sent a report on the autopsy yet? Do we know whose blood was under the guy's nails?"

Yeah. Right. McCoy thought, but brought the report up on his console. "The blood was definitely human, but there's no DNA match in Federation databases."

"None? Did you cross-check that?"

"Yep. Nothing."

"Hmm." All the humor had drained from Jim's face. "There're a pretty limited number of space-faring humans not in that database. From what I understand, other than the occasional emergency evacuees from some backwater colony gone sour, the only human who might be on a starbase and not be in Federation databanks is if someone who went to some effort to avoid it."

Thanks to everyone still reading and for waiting me to update. And thanks for the notes of sympathy. I think I'm back to writing humor rather than angst as therapy.

And my dd is watching TOS to take her mind off things. The last two episodes we viewed had Spock playing detective. He really does a good Holmes. If I weren't averse to the whole holodeck-as-plot-prop (WAY over used in TNG imo), I'd try to find a way to make Spock and my favorite detective work together.

Yes, McCoy understands exactly why Selina was flirting with him, but he still enjoyed it...and might still hold out some hope that it wasn't really the only reason.