The most he had seen of Spock over the last three days, was fleeting and chilly. Their conversation had stayed clinical, Spock only speaking to him to answer a question regarding his healing. Clipped tones, a scowl, and Spock winked out of his sight and disappeared through the doors of his quarters.

McCoy understood Spock's desire for solitude and meditation. However, he didn't appreciate the strange regression in their relationship. While Spock was composed as he ever was, there was a slight air of frustration and impatience about him. It made McCoy uneasy, feeling like Spock could hear what he was thinking or see into the heated frenzy of his dreams. Those were another matter entirely.

Noting the ship's time, he bid farewell to Nurse Chapel, and made his way to the mess hall for dinner with Jim. The lack of Spock's presence had been filled with Jim's venting about the political turmoil in the quadrant. Tensions were running high between the powers, that was for damned sure.

Spotting the captain in the mostly empty room, he lazily seated himself across from the other man.

"I'm tired," He drawled.

Jim mumbled around a mouth full of his dinner, "Every day, you skulk through those doors, and drag yourself over here, fall into that chair with the grace of a...what would you call it...something about a lame horse and ...grits?...whatever. A Klingon in a China shop." A cheeky grin followed up the butchering of one of his more favoured, old world sayings.

He leaned forward and grabbed the other half of Jim's sandwich, taking a hefty mouthful. Letting Jim prattle on about the latest bridge gossip, he chewed contentedly, happy to drown the other man out. As he was about to swallow, the mess hall doors swished open and Spock strode through, closely followed by Uhura.

The lump of mushy food caught in his throat, and he fought the urge to gag. Scowling, he forced it down and tried his hardest to focus on Jim's ridiculous face.

"...And that's when we decided half a case of Blood Wine wasn't worth the trouble. So I guess since you haven't been listening to a word I've said, I'll go ahead, test a theory, and say 'Spock'."

"What? What about Spock?" Instantly his heart leapt into his throat and he stared intently at Jim.

A smirk crinkled around blue eyes, "You're pathetic, do you know that?"

Fighting the desire to yank the other man back around, he watched the captain twist in his chair to eye the other two crew members across the room.

"Well, I do say, that boy is as purdy as a speckled pup under a red wagon!" Jim flamboyantly swished his napkin about himself and batted his eyelashes.

"If you don't stop, I'll tell everyone that you sleep with a night light."

Brushing off the threat, Jim beamed at his friend, "You know, I'm only teasing. And you should think about working on your scowl, it's been a little less blood curdling lately. People are starting to talk."

McCoy grumbled, "It's his fault, he's done something to me. Some voodoo shit, I dunno." Muttering off, he stared down at the table.

"Stop it, you look like a mad man. Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just MAYBE, yeah, one of you is a little hypersensitive to the other, now that you've melded?"

"Whatever, it doesn't matter." Glaring, he folded his arms across the table and buried his face into them.

Jim sputtered out a chuckle, "What are you, fifteen? Have you been drawing Bones+Goblin=Heart, on your journals?"

An inaudible muffling was McCoy's reply.

"Aw, c'mon Bones..." Jim ruffled the messy brown hair. "Just let him do his Vulcan thing for now. He needs to sort shit out and then things will get back on track."

"I don't want to wait..."

"I know. But, at least you know that he feels the same way. Vulcans don't lie, remember? This is worth waiting for."

Pulling himself back up, he eyed the room and its occupants. "I'll tell ya what, it better be, or I'll...I don't know what I'll do, but it'll be something terrible."

"Sure do boy, a-hyuk!"

Cringing, McCoy pushed the plate of food closer to Jim, encouraging him to eat and thus, provide sweet silence.

As Jim continued to eat, McCoy let the calm wave of his best friend's presence relax him. Happy with no thoughts or worries for a moment, he was simply blank. Of their own accord it seemed, his eyes began to roam, searching for the figure that would blow his quasi-meditation to shit.

His eyes covertly looked passed Jim's now unfocused form, finding the back of Spock's head. No sooner did his eyes shift the mere millimetres, the head moved to the side and a pair of brown eyes were suddenly looking as far behind as they could. Shaken, McCoy swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and engaged Jim in slightly panicked small talk.

*I feel I should note that I am not going to do any Uhura-bashing, or create any twisted love triangles.*

*I think a serious!Jim is needed in a scene with Spock. Can't ignore their epic friendship.*