A/N: A little later than I promised, but it's here!
He knows that 'there's no business like show business', but he wasn't cut out for this acting thing…
The Waschuans had gone all out, just like the dossier said; and boy had they done it. The gala was being held in one of the bigger mansions McCoy had ever laid eyes on, and this included Yzic Manor, which could be seen from Yzic's near-orbiting moon. It was a sight fancier than any he'd ever seen, and giving the impression that he was used to this kind of affair was more than a little difficult.
Before they even arrived at the front gate, they were overwhelmed by pomp and circumstance. Of course, each man had his credentials on hand, so security wasn't the issue. It was the sheer opulence of the place. McCoy supposed that the money that hadn't been funneled into some sort of a space program had to be going somewhere. The Avarian Alliance cared little for space faring, aside from what they figured could be gleaned by trade. A lot, by the looks of it.
Everyone in the courtyard was dressed to the nines. McCoy was glad he'd made Sulu trade jackets. They already seemed underdressed in their simple black suits. The effect was especially striking when either of them stood next to any of the Waschuan guests. It seemed like their hosts decorated themselves like the decorated their homes.
"Garish." McCoy murmured when Sulu was in range.
"Yeah, well I overheard a lady call us 'bland' and 'no fun'."
"We're not here to have fun." McCoy snorted and gave the crowd a cursory glance. He could pick out the Romulan party easily enough. They stuck together in a cluster, almost like they wanted to be seen as a show of numbers. The Vulcan guests were alone or in pairs for the most part. McCoy's only task now was to make sure the Vulcans were Vulcans and that the Romulans didn't get the chance to stab him. Or Sulu. He was a little less worried about Sulu in all honesty.
The helmsman seemed to be greatly enjoying himself. There were plenty of sights and sounds that were brand new for the both of them. This party was nothing like they'd ever seen on shore leave, and probably like nothing they'd ever see again.
"Jim would give his right arm to be here. I bet he'd prefer you to Spock as a wingman if this were an unofficial affair. What's he calling you, his 'ninja sidekick' or something absurd like that?"
Sulu was examining the dessert table set up next to an ornate fountain. "Yeah. Variations thereupon. I think it's supposed to be endearing, but I'd rather be D'Artagnan." He made a swashbuckling move, miming as if he swung a sword. "Or maybe Captain Aubrey or Count Khelsi. They fought on the high seas and in turbulent space, respectively."
"Didn't know you were into adventure shows." McCoy was half paying attention, half checking out a trio of Vulcans by the flower beds.
"The novels too, Doc, the novels! Count Khelsi was a literary adventurer before he was a Holo-serial. And Aubrey and D'Artagnan were dueling in print before the Eugenics Wars."
"Fine. You're a book nut too. Happy?" He grabbed Sulu's elbow and pretended to drag him across the path to show him a fancy rosebush or something. "We've got work to do."
Sulu seemed more interested in the plant than the group of Vulcans. "As I, famed botanist Ilik Hasegawa, would like to point out: these are Andorian Spring Roses. They can't grow just anywhere."
"Fascinating, Ilik. And as I, Doctor Harold Jackson, would like to remind you: we're not here to sightsee."
"They're not easy to come by either." Sulu ignored his comment completely. "Andorian Spring Roses only grow under certain conditions, and this makes transporting them pretty hard as well. I wonder how the Waschuans got their hands on such a large supply?"
McCoy huffed and switched his scanner off. The Vulcans had gone out of range. "Well, obviously they've spared no expense for this shindig. Probably special ordered 'em. Come on. Let's get inside. Seems like we're bein' herded towards there anyhow."
Several waiters and general attendants were gesturing toward the main structure. That was hint enough. McCoy resisted the urge to grab Sulu and drag him bodily away from the plants, but only just barely. There was still a sense of decorum to be observed. That, and the Helmsman could take care of himself. This wasn't the first undercover op that Sulu had gone on. He'd done a sight better than McCoy on most of those as well, barring the 'Archon Incident'. The Doctor could recall a time or two where Sulu's quick thinking had saved the entire away mission besides. Still, the man loved plants to the point of distraction. Distraction from the mission, it seemed.
"Come on, 'famed botanist Ilik Hasegawa'. We've got some mingling to do."
He had a flute of something alcoholic in one hand. The other was poised 'casually' in his pocket, so he could run scans inconspicuously.
It was surprising how much the drink helped. It wasn't the alcohol content that did it- the swill was palatable but weak, that was for sure- but the act of holding the drink itself that set his nerves at ease. The beverage lent a sense of belonging to the crowd. Countless others were mingling with their beverages and snacks. It made McCoy feel more natural doing the same.
He and Sulu had parted ways after entering. They supposed it would be better to divide and conquer. After all, this was a big party. Guests were milling about by the hundreds. It was remarkable that the building was big enough to hold this many people, but there seemed to be room in abundance. Everyone glittered with riches or notoriety, jewels or crowds of interested conversationalists denoting which.
McCoy had been biting the bullet, making rounds between the Vulcans and trying to start some sort of conversation, but he hadn't met with much success. Conversationally, he was a train wreck. Talking to Spock was bad enough, but these people made small talk the societal Mount Everest. Every response was an uphill battle.
Eventually, McCoy gave up approaching the groups at all. He would simply act like he belonged in the vicinity, and scan them. So far, this was working out in his favor.
He'd only spotted Sulu once. The helmsman was talking with a pair of Vulcans, and apparently holding his own.
"Probably botanists, the pair." McCoy groused. He took another swig of the awful drink and grimaced. "I bet the tap water is stronger."
"Waschuan champagne is perhaps not the best choice for humans."
Sputtering from his half-sip, McCoy managed to turn without upending the glass all over himself. He was surprised to meet a very pleasing face, save for that blasted arched eyebrow.
"Pardon?" It was all he could get out.
The Vulcan lady inclined her head toward his glass. "The alcohol content is more suited to Waschuan biology. Their species has a lower tolerance than humans."
McCoy hadn't realized he'd been quite that vocal in his criticism of the drink. "Oh, uh… I see." Remembering himself, McCoy inclined his head back at her. Vulcans don't shake hands. "Doctor Harold Jackson, xenobiological research. Pleasure to meet you."
Her expression remained placid, but he thought he caught something in the eyes. Just for a moment, McCoy thought he detected amusement. It's like one of those Spock things. The kind where you're not all the way sure he's doing it, but your gut tells you you're not wrong. Blasted Vulcans. All the same.
"Chu'Lak Dvir V'Laivas, biomedical sciences. But, you may call me V'Laivas, Doctor."
"Well then, you may call me Harold. No need to stand on formality. We're at a party."
When she didn't answer right away, he thought he'd put his foot in his mouth, but the way V'Laivas kept standing there made him think he might not've blundered so badly.
"I am glad of your openness, Harold. Human behavior is often more complex than we Vulcans account for. Emotion is not a constant, to borrow mathematical terminology."
McCoy chuckled. "You've got that right. I've got a Vulcan colleague who gives me the third degree on emotionalism versus the many merits of logic."
V'Laivas nodded. "Who is this colleague of yours, Harold? I am acquainted with many xenobiologists."
Before he could work up that cold sweat, McCoy remembered Spock's cover ID. "Doctor Selek. We don't work closely together, but the lab wanted to send a couple good people down to the party. Those of us with more social graces, I suspect." He smirked. "Scientists aren't always wonderful conversationalists. But, it seemed I lucked out."
"I do not agree, Harold." V'Laivas was doing that I'm-not-smiling-I'm-Vulcan thing again. "Though some lack the computational ability, it stands to reason that the components of successful conversation and the variables therein can be derived in the appropriate time during any given discussion. Flattery, for instance." She gave him a significant look. "It appears to be a significant component."
McCoy blinked. It just occurred to him that he could- quite possibly- be doing something akin to flirting with a Vulcan. On the outside, he smiled amicably. I'm sure glad Spock didn't pop along for this one or I would never heard the end of it. Not until the day I died.
"Ever heard the old Earth saying- 'It's better to catch flies with honey rather than vinegar'?"
"Are you comparing me to a fly, Harold?"
McCoy was happy he wasn't sipping on his drink, because the amount of sputtering might've caused a scene. He was sure he was bright red, but V'Laivas didn't seem to mind the social gaff at all. On second glance, McCoy was pretty sure he saw the Vulcan equivalent of a smirk. He blinked. Blasted, blasted Vulcans!
Luckily, Sulu chose that moment to make a rescue.
"Doc! Doc, I- Oh. Hello." Sulu stuck out a hand before retracting it quickly and slamming it into his pocket, as if the action would not only erase any memory of his slip, but also sever the embarrassing appendage before it did any more damage.
"Oh, V'Laivas, this is a friend of mine,-"
"Ilik Hasegawa, botanist." Sulu beamed.
"Yes." McCoy followed up. "Ilik here took Doctor Selek's place because he uh… fell ill. It wasn't serious, only he berated me on the inefficiency of human decontamination procedures. I told him that I was very sorry, but there's no cure for the common cold."
Sulu cottoned on to the fact that McCoy was shamelessly flirting with this total stranger, and put on a brave face.
"Say, uh, Doc, you mind if I borrow you a second?" To V'Laivas he said, "I won't keep him long."
V'Laivas inclined her head. "Of course. If you would not object, Harold, I can find a beverage more suited to your biology."
McCoy was dead certain he blushed to his ears, but he nodded. "Thank you, V'Laivas. I'll be right back."
Sulu dragged him away from the scene, and watched as the Vulcan slipped off to the refreshment table. Once they were well out of earshot, Sulu gave McCoy a look.
"Really, Doc?"
Now it was the Doctor's turn to dispense displeasure. "Oh come on, Sulu! I'm just doing my job."
"When the Captain said 'check out the Vulcans', I'm pretty sure he didn't mean-"
"Fine!" He hissed. McCoy did not want to hear the end of that sentence. "Fine! You want me scanning? I'll scan. I'll get me a shot of whatever V'Laivas thinks is strong enough to pass for decent alcohol and then I'll scan the livin' daylights outta everybody with pointed ears!"
Sulu narrowed his eyes at the Doctor, but after a long moment, he nodded. "Alright. But it's only fair, Doc. You wouldn't let me get to know the plants, so I can hardly-"
"Yes, Sulu, I get it!" This couldn't get any worse, not even if Jim was here.
"Ilik." Sulu reminded him. "Ilik Hasegawa. I called- and told them so myself! That's the last time someone mispronounced my name on the station, let me tell you!" He broke into a grin and slapped a hand on McCoy's shoulder. V'Laivas was fast approaching with two glasses.
"I bet they didn't." McCoy plastered on a smile as well. That was close. "That must be hard. You know, on Earth, no one ever gets 'Harold Jackson' wrong, but on Rigel, whew, lemme tell you!"
They both turned to open up the circle when V'Laivas got close enough. McCoy accepted the drink from her and took an experimental sip. "Say, this is some good stuff! My compliments to whoever mixed this drink!"
"Krhmarine spirits. They are another member planet of the Avarian Alliance. I believe their alcohol consumption rate- on average- is ever higher than that of humans. It can be said that they are very skilled in their craft."
"I'll drink to that." McCoy took another sip.
Sulu eyed the pair of them with an odd expression. "Hate to cut and run, Doc, but I've got to get back across the room. I was just discussing some very interesting carnations with a prominent Wachuan biologist. Oh, and don't forget that scientist friend of mine you were going to track down."
"Sure thing, Ilik." McCoy nodded. "I won't forget it."
Sulu gave V'Laivas a polite nod before leaving. The Vulcan turned back to McCoy. "He is a good friend of yours?"
McCoy nodded again. "Sure, sure. Ilik's a real pal. Not my closest friend, but we see each other often enough. Xenobiology and botany always seem to intersect at the strangest times. I couldn't tell you how many odd cures we've found in odd places for odder conditions! Planets completely unrelated to each other turn out to have some kinda crazy cure for another's epidemic."
"That is an aspect of biomedical science that I find most intriguing." V'Laivas glanced around the crowded foyer. "Perhaps we might discuss it in a more suitable environment."
"Sure, sure." McCoy hadn't noticed before, but it was awful loud. It seemed like there were more people, pressing, crowded into the space.
V'Laivas gestured to him before leading the way through the masses and out onto a sort of balcony. A veranda? McCoy couldn't remember what you called the thing. It was like a porch, only not a porch. His head hurt. He didn't care anymore.
"The more exotic cures are always pretty surprising." The fresh air seemed to do him a world of good, but the night air was hotter than he remembered. "Sometimes it's plants, like Ilik deals with. Sometimes it's strange radiation…"
McCoy leaned against the stone railing. He strove to look casual, but he was not feeling well at all. Between scanning V'Laivas' face and trying to hold up enough brain cells to keep this conversation going, McCoy couldn't spare a lot of energy for the Doctor inside. Once he realized that, he knew something was wrong.
"I don't… I need to find Ilik. I'm not feeling…" He stumbled further into the railing, leaning out over a row of hedges. The empty garden before him swam, and the muted sounds of the foyer had nearly faded from his awareness.
"I know, Harold." V'Laivas' hand pressed against his shoulder. Harder. He fell headlong over the railing.
"I know."
But he didn't. Not anymore.
A/N: Stay tuned for the final chapter of Leonard McCoy Knows! Thanks for reading!