Disc. The closest I've ever come to owning Star Trek was when I was being nurse to my mom and I told her to 'just call me Bones' Other than that...nothing.

Sorry it's taken me so long!! And I AM working on NMIS too, so don't worry. It'll get posted...eventually. Serious writer's block.

Chapter Three

The first thing that Kirk noticed upon entering Sickbay was that it was strangely empty. The next thing he noticed no doubt accounted for that. The raised voice of Doctor McCoy could heard, giving Spock a stern lecture. The unfortunate Vulcan had apparently lost his voice somewhat, a fact that McCoy was taking plain advantage of.

Deciding that he really didn't want to get involved with in this, and remembering that he had something extremely important to do, (like sorting his sock drawer), Kirk tried to make a quiet exit. But, fate wasn't going to be that kind.

As the Captain would later complain, a stray hypo 'leaped viciously' out at him from atop a table. (Spock would then state that Kirk had bumped into the table himself.) Whatever the case, the hypo fell to the floor with a loud clatter, announcing Kirk's presence to the world.

As Kirk glared at the offending piece of medical equipment, resisting a strong urge to kick it, McCoy sauntered over.

"Hello there, Jim," he drawled. "I was just informing your First Officer-" he shot a glance back toward the direction he'd just come from-"about the merits of such magical activities as sleeping and eating, and about what happens when those activities are neglected. Now, go tell him that I'm right."

Firmly telling himself that he was not going to let McCoy bully him around, (and now nursing a desire to kick the doctor) Kirk shook his head.

"I'm not getting into this, Bones. I just came to see how Spock is doing."

The doctor scowled.

"Fine," he said, heading for the patient ward with Kirk following. "As far as I can tell, he's got the Vulcan version of the flu, though they've got a much more complicated name for it, of course."

The Captain grinned.

"Well, I did work hard for that medical degree."

It took McCoy a moment to recall his earlier comment about Kirk's diagnosis.

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," he finally answered, walking over to study the scanners above Spock's bed.

Spock was sitting up, looking rather pale and tired, with shadows around his eyes, but otherwise healthy. His expression was, as always, barely readable, but had it been translated into human, it would have suggested something along the lines of 'Just shoot me now.' None the less, he still gave Kirk a nod of greeting.

"Hey Spock," Kirk said. "Glad to see you've stopped sneezing. How long are you in for?"

Spock cleared his throat a few times and managed to raspily reply- but not before he shot what could almost be called a scathing glance at McCoy.

"My attempts to elicit that information only resulted in a harangue."

Kirk gave McCoy a Look.

The doctor started to jump into another speech, then realized that doing so would only verify Spock's statement.

"You're stuck here until tomorrow afternoon," he said finally, admitting defeat. "Unless something new develops."

Spock nodded.

"In that case," he said, "I must ask a favor. I will need someone to..." he trailed off, obviously not eager to continue.

"To...what?" Kirk prodded, his curiosity piqued.

"Feed my cat," Spock finished reluctantly.

Two pairs of human eyebrows shot up.

"Your cat?" McCoy sounded both shocked and dubious. "You don't have a cat!"

"I have recently acquired one, for short-time ownership. It is for an experiment."

Kirk was aghast.

"Spock!" he cried, "You're experimenting on a cat?!" A sudden image of a satanic-looking Spock, holding a tricorder and a pitchfork, towering over a helpless kitty, popped into Kirk's mind.

Spock must have realized what his words would sound like to an illogical human, because he explained further.

"Not in any harmful manner, I assure you. I am merely trying to better understand human emotions."

McCoy have Kirk an extremely worried look.

"Jim, I thing he's sicker than we thought," he said gravely.

Spock permitted himself a small sigh.

"Doctor, you misunderstand me, as usual. I certainly have no desire to emulate humane emotions, simply to study them. I find it fascinating, albeit illogical, that rational, adult beings can become so attached to such animals. I am curious as to what makes these 'pets' so endearing."

The Vulcan's tone and expression were both so dead serious that he might have been discussing pyrotechnics instead of felines. Kirk dearly wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but restrained himself. McCoy apparently did not have such restraints, for he looked about ready to throw out a laughing insult. His intentions were cut short when the Captain stepped forcefully on his foot.

Ignoring the doctor's cries of "Yowch Jim, what was that for!", Kirk said,

"Sure Spock, we'll feed your cat. How often?"

The First Officer let a glimmer of relief show.

"Tonight and tomorrow morning will suffice. The food is in my quarters, along with a chart which will tell you how much food to give him."

"Alright then," McCoy said, carefully placing his weight on his uninjured foot. "By the way, what's your cat's name?"

"I seem to have reached an impasse in that matter," Spock admitted. "Most often, humans tend to give extremely illogical names to their pets, or so I have noticed. Therefor, a logical name would not be adequate for the accuracy of my study. However, having a rational mind, I am unable to come up with anything suitably illogical."

McCoy sighed and shook his head.

"Well, you let me know how that works out." His voice dropped and he grumbled to himself. "Crazy pointy-eared philosophies...pointy-eared..." The doctor's ice-blue eyes suddenly sparked with an idea, then with a mischievous gleam. Then, his demeanor abruptly changed.

"Ya know Jim, you should probably get back to the bridge," he said, in an almost lax-a-daiseal way. "I'll take care of the little guy tonight."

Spock and the Captain both raised their eyebrows at this sudden, suspicious display of magnanimity

"What?" McCoy demanded self-defensively. "I feel sorry for the poor cat. Betcha he doesn't have any jingle balls to play with or anything, huh?"

A jerk of an eyebrow.

"Jingle balls?"

"See what I mean?" McCoy said to Kirk, effectively distracting him from his suspicions. "All that critter's got for company is Tons-of-Fun here." He jerked a thumb in Spock's direction.

Kirk couldn't help it. He laughed. Yep, same old doctor, just being ornery. There wasn't anything to worry about. He started to walk off.

"Okay, Im going back to the Bridge. See you at breakfast." Then, with a backwards glance-"Don't be too mean with him, Bones."

McCoy immediately adopted a look of feigned shock.

"Me? Mean to Spock?" he asked, blinking innocently. "Why Jim, I would never..."

The Captain strode off, missing the slightly-evil grin that spread across the doctor's face.

TBC

Sorry, I REALLY want to do replies, but I cant right now, for complicated computer reasons. Next chapter, I will just have to do long replies!!!!

Though, I am kinda tickled that everyone seemed to like the pink dress thing. I don't know where that came from, it just popped out of my mind one day. I might write a story about it sometime, or I might just leave you all to wonder....(unless one of y'all want to write about it, thats fine by me!)