McCoy grunted as he dropped the PADD onto his desk with somewhat more force than recommended by the manufacturers.

"If I ever find the idiot who made this many monthly reports regulation, I'll give him a hypo full of Cardassian Scalp Rot."

Christine Chapel, passing by, smiled though not without sympathy. As Head Nurse, she had her own share of paperwork to fill out – though, hers never reached this epic a proportion, mostly because she didn't postpone filling them in till the deadline was a day away.

"Nearly done?"

"Just done."

The doctor glared at the PADD as if it had been questioning his professional credentials.

"Then why the scowl?"

"Our resident walking computer."

Christine frowned a bit disapprovingly. The doctor and the first officer may well be willing to take a bullet for each other if it came to that (on occasion, it had come to that, one way or the other), but they couldn't be depended on to stay in the same room for more than five minutes before the conversation degenerated to name calling and icy snarking.

"Has he been reminding you about the paperwork?"

"Damn hobgoblin, got as many degrees in xenobiology as most of my staff here, and doesn't seem to work out that not everyone can program themselves insomniac!"

"You are late with it again, aren't you?"

The only reply was a glare that a Noredian Basilisk would envy. Christine grinned.

"Don't worry, Len, maybe he'll play nice. "

A snort from the doctor. Christine left, still grinning. McCoy fumed. Just one day late, yeah, but try telling that to Mr OCD. He could imagine the lecture "Really, doctor, it is illogical and inefficient to postpone tasks which-"

"No way I am going to put up with that on top of this headache."

Maybe he could submit the reports direct to Jim? If anyone, Jim should sympathize – it was an open secret that the captain regularly managed to sweet talk the Vulcan into doing at least half of his paper work for him. (And was late with the other half.)

Nah, won't work. Jim would be on the Bridge right now, and Spock with him. Going up to the Bridge to submit the report would be walking right into the lion's mouth. Jim would probably love the free entertainment, but no thanks, he had a bad enough headache already.

As for waiting till Jim's shift was over to corner him, Spock would probably turn up before then, asking why the quarterly requisition reports haven't been submitted even eleven point four seven something hours after the deadline. McCoy huffed.

"Mr Perfect's not gonna-"

Wait. Wait. There were possibilities… McCoy grinned.

Yeah, it was a highschool trick, but so what? Desperate times, desperate measures. It was simple enough – if you're late with an assignment, don't put it on the teacher's desk, put it under it. then when you get called on in class, you declare you submitted it, and when the teacher goes to check in his office, sure, there's the assignment. Student is all puzzled innocence and the teacher is all puzzled apology for having mislaid the work. You may even get a higher grade than deserved if the teacher feels guilty enough about the false accusation.

Try it with a variation. Go to the hobgoblin's quarters, put the PADD with his reports somewhere where it won't be easily seen. Then pull the old highschool act on Mr High-And-Mighty if he comes nagging.

Of course, as it is Spock, there's little chance of his accepting he mislaid the report – the guy probably hasn't mislaid a single thing in his entire life. However, plausible deniability guaranteed, plus subject matter enough for at least three regular sized snipe fests.

The doctor left the sickbay with a bounce in his step, somewhat to the bemusement of a slightly alarmed Christine Chapel.

Getting into the cabin would be no problem – Spock never locked his doors. A habit from Vulcan, that he wouldn't drop no matter what Jim or McCoy said.. "I see no reason to change this habit any more than I change my other Vulcan habits in order to adapt to the human crew" indeed.

Well, as a general rule, the psyche tests ensured that every one aboard was generally honest, as a rule. You don't need any possible thievery in a closed environment like a starship. But still, Jim had warned him often enough that he was tempting fate. All the better. If caught, that left the possibility of claiming this was intended as an object lesson in personal security habits, courtesy of your friendly country doctor.

…..

It was a quiet day on the Bridge.

Kirk leaned back in his chair, squirming in an effort to find a marginally more comfortable position. It was a running joke that whoever designed the Command chairs must have been a fan of that twenty first century terran guy who wrote the epic with the Iron Throne – " A King should never sit easy". Apparently, nor should starship captains.

He was at the point of getting up and beginning to circle the Bridge again (or maybe go hang over Spock's shoulder, chatting – it won't bother the multi tasking Vulcan) when Uhura looked up sharply from her console.

"Captain, a call from…Mr Spock's cabin?"

Kirk (along with several of the Bridge crew) glanced at Spock (present and accounted for), then back at Uhura. Finally, something interesting.

"Put them through, Uhura."

An intruder or a thief would hardly be likely to announce their location by calling the Bridge. Uhura flicked a switch, opening the channel…and a flood of creative Southern profanity in a very familiar voice spewed out.

"Bones?"

"Dr McCoy?"

Kirk leaned closer to the intercom link, frowning.

"Bones, what's going on-"

"JIM!" The staccato barks of cursing turned into a yowl. "TELL THAT HOBGOBLIN OF YOURS TO GET DOWN HERE BEFORE HIS BLASTED PET PLANT EATS ME!"

Sulu's eyes widened, and the helmsman let out a sound that was halfway between a groan and a laugh. Spock raised an eyebrow and moved closer to the Command chair comm. link, unhurriedly.

"Doctor, may I enquire what exactly you are doing in my personal quarters?"

The doctor's reply was as expressive as it was unprintable. Kirk's eyes went from Spock to Sulu and back to the comm. link. The yowls had resumed.

"Doctor, I suggest you calm down. The Aberdeen Mortenum has exhibited sensitiveness to auditory stimuli."

McCoy instantly went silent as if someone had pressed the mute button. Jim wasn't sure whether he should be amused or alarmed or something in between.

"The Aberdeen what?"

"The Aberdeen Mortenum, captain."

"Can it actually eat him?"

"Certainly not. The plant is not carnivorous, nor is its size suitable to ingesting an adult humanoid. I believe it is only confining the doctor for the moment , as it has evidently identified him as a trespasser."

There were several wide grins that were hastily masked when the captain glanced up – at least, till they saw that the captain was grinning, as well.

"Well, lieutenant, am I right in assuming you have something to do with this…incident?"

Sulu, the resident mad botanist, blushed, looking a bit flustered.

"Um, sir, it's been sort of a pet project, in my spare time.. I've been trying to modify the Mortenum so that it would, um, flourish aboard…It's a really interesting species, sir!"

A plant guard dog – definitely interesting…Or shall we say, fascinating.

"Spock, are we talking about that plant in your room – the one that looks like someone gave Medusa a makeover and a green dye job?"

"Medusa, Captain?"

"The one that kept trying to snatch the chess piece from me yesterday?"

"The same, sir."

It was Kirk's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"That one looked pretty gentle, to me. Kept caressing my hair, though."

Sulu let out a startled chuckle that he instantly morphed into a cough.

"Lieutenant?"

"Um, sir, the Mortenum, sir, is sort of, um, mildly telepathic. At least, empathic. It sorta..well, once it imprints on an owner it tends to be in..in tune to the owner's feeli… I mean, attitudes. Towards things and towards people. That's why I've been asking the high Psi rating folk aboard to have one in their cabin – wanted to see how it'd react.."

"It has a primitive neural system" Spock confirmed. " The energies it emits, as well as the fragrance, have noticeable meditation enhancing properties. The natives of Aberdeen believe that a specimen of the plant would serve to ward off pests, both in the literal and the metaphorical sense."

"Sounds like a useful pet, Commander."

"Pet, sir?" Spock sounded genuinely taken aback. " My interests in the specimen are purely scientific. If it can flourish in the Vulcan norm environment in my quarters-"

"SPOCK!" The doctor yowled again through the command chair link, nearly rupturing Jim's eardrums. " GET YOUR SKINNY GREEN BEHIND DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

"Perhaps I had better go release the doctor, Captain" Spock conceded.

"I guess so.."Kirk got to his feet. "Do you need Sulu or can you make it back down on your own?"

"It has imprinted on me, captain. It will follow my commands."

"Then you have the conn, Sulu. I think this one would be worth a trip downstairs."

Together, the pair moved to the nearest turbo lift. Jim, choking down an intense desire to giggle, glanced at his stoic First. Surely there was a little gleam in those dark eyes?

…

The door of Spock's cabin slid open at their approach. After the first gleeful look at his unfortunate CMO, Jim stepped back a bit so as to keep the door from closing.

There are no security cameras within private cabins, and he had no intention of letting the door slide between this particular visual and the camera in the corridor outside.

"A bit tied up, Bones?"