Spock awoke drenched in his own sweat and shivering uncontrollably. These were indicators that the flu was still ravaging his body and he rolled over, muffling a groan into his pillow.

"Spock?"

An uncharacteristic feeling of heat rushed to his face when he realized that he was not alone. Hazy memories of Doctor McCoy and Captain Kirk and something about a mind-meld came back slowly, as he blinked his eyes open.

Kirk was sitting at his desk, feet propped up, holobook projected mid-air. Now he was looking past the holobook and at Spock.

"You alright?"

Spock licked his lips and swallowed back a groan of discontent. He would not be making another sound if he could help it. That was very un-Vulcan-like of him.

"The fever is still present," he managed hoarsely, clearing his throat weakly. "If not higher."

"Do you want, I don't know, water or something?"

"Water would be... satisfactory," Spock muttered, painstakingly pushing himself into a sitting position.

"Stay still. If your fever's higher, I don't even want to know how you feel."

Spock gingerly leaned back against the headboard. "I have had time to reassess my symptoms and compensate accordingly."

"Compensate? How can you compensate for a fever? Sparkling or distilled?" Kirk asked, stopping next to the replicator.

"The carbonation may have more effect," Spock said shortly, hunkering down further into the blankets. "As for your other inquiry... I am a Vulcan. We have the ability to..."

"Heal yourselves, yeah?" Kirk said, handing over the glass of bubbling water. "But does that work with a fever?"

"It... assists," Spock said shortly, sipping at the water.

Kirk watched him for a moment, eyes narrowed. "Your face is green."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Flushing is commonly associated with elevated body temperature."

"Woah, you blush green?"

"It should be common knowledge that all species do not have the same type of blood. And as Doctor McCoy is fond of-" he coughed as the carbonation of the water tickled his nose- "fond of pointing out, I have green blood."

Kirk grinned, throwing himself back into the chair again. "That's awesome. What I wouldn't give for a picture right now."

Spock sipped at the water again. "I would not appreciate such an action." He coughed again, pausing in drinking to try and catch his breath.

He wasn't lying when he said he had the ability to compensate for the illness. He couldn't heal it on his own, per se, but he could downplay the symptoms in his mind. Pain and the uncomfortable feeling associated with illness was simply a state of mind. He could control it.

Still, it didn't help the actual fever or the fact that he felt like he was going to regurgitate any liquid he consumed in the next ten minutes.

Nonetheless, he sipped at his water again, closing his eyes.

"Bones was here for awhile. He said you were dead to the world. I think you were starting to worry him," Kirk said cheerfully. "I made him go back to Sickbay."

Resisting the urge to wonder exactly how the Captain had removed Doctor McCoy from the premises, Spock took another drink of the water.

"I believe that I slipped into the Vulcan healing state without conscious design. It would explain why I am feeling marginally better."

Kirk snorted. "Bullshit. Don't try to give me your I'm fine crap; it won't work on me."

"I did not say that I was fine. I merely said that I was feeling marginally better." Spock set the empty glass down. "I apologise about the use of the mind-meld. I was not making a conscious decision to perform the action."

"Yeah, thanks for that," Kirk said dryly.

"It was not my intention to imprint my experiences upon your consciousness," Spock said shortly. "It was something that..." He hesitated. "It was something that I used to do to my mother when I was sick as a child."

Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Why is it that you sound so incredulous?"

"I don't know. Why did you do that to your mom?"

Spock shuffled back slightly. Not wanting to seem ungracious as a host, he didn't want to lay back down, but his back was aching and his head was starting to pound again.

"Lay down," Kirk commanded, as if he could read his mind.

Spock didn't argue the point, letting himself settle back into the blankets. Sometimes, as spontaneous and wild as Kirk could be, Spock was oftentimes pleased with the Captain's keen intelligence on some things.

"Now, you were saying."

"Being a Vulcan... It was difficult to express my state of health to my mother while I was ill. It was more easy for both of us simply to share the symptoms so that my mother could treat them accordingly," Spock said slowly.

"Oh. Cool." Kirk's tone of voice stated simply that it was not 'cool', but that he was voicing sentiment for the sake of it.

"I do not understand how the fact of a mind-meld for illness can be considered 'cool'. Temperature has no impact nor relevance-"

"Just... forget it."

Spock 'forgot it' and drew his pillow closer, pressing two fingers against either of his temples.

"You've got a headache again?"

"Yes."

"Warm cloth?"

"Yes," Spock allowed.

"Alright."

He curled over onto his right side, shuffling the blankets over one chilled, pointy ear. He hated to sleep on Captain Kirk's watch, but it seemed that he was ordered to do little else. Too unwilling to put voice to the question in his mind as Kirk gave a little laugh somewhere behind him, Spock dozed off again.

He only woke up to throw up.

His body was still fighting nausea (and losing). Hadn't he just persuaded his body that this was all a matter of will? Of Vulcan will and strength?

The half human part of him perhaps had an effect on how great he was at managing things such as pain or illness.

As it were, he awoke with a start with the acrid taste of bile on the back of his tongue. Kirk, who had been standing over him for reasons that Spock did not know, jumped with the sudden movement as Spock pushed himself into a sitting position.

One look at Spock's face must have shown how equally terrible Spock felt at that moment, because Kirk swept the trash can off the floor and shoved it into Spock's arms before hastily retreating to the desk again.

Spock threw up what little he had in his stomach before setting the bin back down, dropping (flopping, if he were thinking more) back onto the pillows.

"Do you want me to call Bones?" Kirk asked uncertainly.

"No, I do not," Spock bit off, a little more vehemently than he intended to.

The Captain stared at him for a moment before cracking a smile. "Wow, that's the first time I've ever heard emotion in your voice."

Spock closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands to them. His fingers were shaking.

"I was just waiting for the tricorder to settle," Kirk said, stepping close again. "Bones left it here so I could keep tabs on your temp. Do you mind?"

"As you were," Spock mumbled, not removing his hands.

The tricorder whirred for a few seconds before Kirk made a noise of disgust. Spock was prompted to open his eyes, looking towards his Captain.

"Your expression does not bode well for my state of health."

"Thirty seven one. You're up to normal human temp."

Spock clenched his teeth around a groan. "Explains the sudden reoccurrence of vomiting."

"Yeah... How are you still conscious?"

"I can withstand higher temperatures than humans..."

"Because if I had a fever that high, I'd be dead."

Spock shivered. "A forty-one degree fever is not necessarily deadly to humans."

"Well, I wouldn't be conscious and/or talking."

"I would rather enjoy not to be talking, either," Spock retorted.

He realised his mistake as soon as it was out of his mouth. The comment was not suited for a Vulcan and certainly not for a Vulcan first officer talking to his Captain. It was a breach of ethics, in every sense of the word.

His cheeks burned. He opened his eyes again to meet the shocked gaze that Captain Kirk was giving him, preparing to make an arduous apology that was not common for Vulcans, either. As he opened his mouth to speak, the emotion clear in Kirk's gaze cut him off.

Mirth.

Kirk was... laughing at him?

Yes, he was; it was made obvious quite quickly when Kirk's twinkling eyes turned to full-out laughter.

Spock wasn't sure whether to apologise now or not. He closed his mouth, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Oh, Spock, the attitude. I love it," Kirk laughed. He flopped down at the end of the bed and Spock hastened to move his legs before Kirk's weight could land on them. "You really are half human, aren't you? I was beginning to wonder."

Spock briefly pondered the length of time that it would take Captain Kirk to get away from the bed if Spock threw up again, but ultimately he decided against it. He already felt sick enough without adding to it.

Instead, he just drew his legs more firmly to his chest and tried to draw the blankets closer. Kirk's weight on them prevented them from moving and he resisted the childish urge to tell Kirk to get off his blankets.

His mental state really was declining. There was no question in that and there was nothing to do but close his eyes and fall into the unconscious state where he knew that he couldn't say things that he never, ever should.

Because the only time that Spock would ever have attitude is when he's really sick.

I made the note in last chapter that a Vulcan's normal temperature is 32.8 Celsius. So, 35 would have been a fever last chapter. 37 (normal human temperature) would be quite high, but, given Vulcan's state of temperature, it seems likely that Vulcans could withstand higher temperatures better. That's just a bit of speculation on my behalf. (For those who only use Fahrenheit [which I would love to use in this story, because Fahrenheit is what I use in America, but Trek uses Celsius in the movies...], 32.8 is about 91 Fahrenheit. 37 is about 98.6. It's a bit confusing, yeah.) Secondly, don't know if Vulcans can heal illness with their mental/healing trance, but it would seem like it could help the symptoms, to me.

I do not own Star Trek. Thank you!