Captain's Log, Stardate 1438.5: We are in orbit of planet Q13-17. Lieutenant Sulu and his team of field science personnel have collected over one-thousand samples of vegetation from the planet, which are now in the laboratory awaiting analysis. As for me, I am off to Medbay to check on First Officer Spock...

Now that the mission on Planet Q13-17 was complete, it was up to the laboratory to undertake further analysis. The hard part (for Kirk, anyway) was mostly over – his men were back safe and sound, the mission was complete, and he could relax.

But he could only take it easy until the laboratory had finished their analyses. After the analyses were completed, there would be record tapes – hundreds of them. Each one would undergo several steps of further analysis and cataloging, in an effort to make them accessible to all members of the Federation. There would be translations into every language, audio-only versions for those with reading or seeing difficulties, Braille printings, enlarged font – and Kirk, as Captain, was ultimately responsible for the completion of these tasks. Also largely a part of the cataloging of the tapes was Spock, who was still predicted to remain in Sickbay for several days.

Spock. How the Bridge seemed empty without him.

As soon as every man was accounted for from the mission, Kirk headed to Sickbay to visit his friend. Dr. McCoy was occupied – Sulu and his men would now take up his time, needing thorough health checks to ensure they'd developed no ill symptoms or rashes while exploring uncharted vegetation. Kirk snuck past without any difficulty, taking secret pride in finally managing to thwart the ever-observant doctor.

He found Spock's bed without any difficulty, and parted the curtain just slightly enough to look in on his First Officer. His stomach sank at what he saw. The Vulcan lay on his back, eyes closed, kept warm by a heavy blanket. The lights were dimmed around his section of the bay, and the only sound came from the persistent pulsing of the biofunction monitor.

"Mr. Spock?" Kirk's voice echoed off the Sickbay walls, seeming far louder than he thought he'd spoke. "Are you awake?"

"Captain. I recognize your voice." Spock's voice was hoarse. "In response to your question, I have been drifting in and out of sleep for several hours."

"Good to hear you're getting some rest." Kirk opened the curtain a little further and stepped inside. "McCoy will certainly be glad to hear it."

"Dr. McCoy has me under close observation. He is aware of the sleep-wake cycles I am undergoing."

Spock began to cough then, hard. Kirk rushed to the side of the bed to watch the monitors. It took every ounce of mental strength he had not to try and help – to pat his friend on the back, hold his hand, anything – but Vulcans were highly sensitive to touch, and Kirk dared not disturb things now. He didn't know what was worse, the fact that his friend was suffering, or the fact that the monitors seemed to be going crazy and he had no idea how to read them.

"Spock…" he murmured. "Breathe...you'll be okay…"

Just then the curtains whooshed open: McCoy. Kirk started to ask what was happening, but he stopped himself; even as Captain, he knew his place in Sickbay, and took a step back to give the doctor room to work. McCoy glanced at the monitor and immediately reached into a nearby drawer, drawing out a hypospray, which he administered immediately. The coughing ceased, and the room went still once more.

McCoy's eyes shifted from the monitor to the Captain. "Jim, what are you doing in here?"

"There is no logic in being angry with him, Captain," Spock murmured. "He came only to check up on my health; a reasonable thing, for a Captain to be concerned with the wellbeing of his crew."

"I'm not angry, Spock," McCoy assured him. "I know he's worried about you and you're worried about him...somehow...but I've got to keep track of who's in my Medbay at all times."

"You were busy with Sulu and his team, Bones." Kirk couldn't help but smile a little. "Spock's right, I only want to make sure I'm doing the best I can for my crew."

"I know, Jim, believe me I know." McCoy sighed, drawing Spock's blankets a little up higher. "I want the best for them, too, y'know; that's why I'm here in the first place. But Spock needs rest, okay? I hate to pull rank on this one, but you can't just come barging in here when you feel like it."

"He was not barging, Doctor."

"Spock, please. You're medicated." McCoy laid a hand on Spock's chest to quiet him. "And your throat's inflamed, so try not to talk."

Spock let out a shaky breath, clearly wanting to object but opting instead to obey McCoy's orders. Kirk, too, sighed wearily; Spock was so stubborn sometimes, he made it where nobody could do anything to help him. At least he'd let McCoy do his work, administer his hyposprays and keep track of his vitals on the biobed. But Kirk was sunk down into helplessness, brushed away by Spock and asked to leave by McCoy.

He was, however, determined not to stay so helpless for very long.