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"I don't even care that you're getting all the credit," Kirk says later when they're all in the mess hall. He takes a bite of his apple. "Way to step in when you needed to, Bones."

Bones glares at him, taking a vindictive stab at his bowl of soup.

"Keptin! I have outlined a tentative plan for the reversal process," Chekov announces, sliding down the bench.

"Shhhh!" everyone hisses. Sulu grabs the papers out of Chekov's wildly flailing arms and hands it to Kirk, who snorts and hands it to Spock. "What? I can't read it," he says when Sulu gives him a look.

Spock smooths the paper out, blandly noting the unusual size of the doctor's hands. He silently pores over the calculations, head bent and scrutinizing the numbers. Bones glances nervously around, but nobody seems to realize the odd behaviour. "Mr. Chekov," Spock says at last, "it appears as though you intend to descramble our particles before reassembling us. Is that correct?"

"Hold on, what?" Bones chokes on his soup and Kirk thumps him soundly on the back. "Descramble? Reassemble? I didn't sign on to this ship to get my atoms partially rearranged, thank you very much."

"It might be the only way to get you back, Bones," Kirk says.

"What's the risk probability of this going wrong?" Bones demands.

Chekov fiddles with the pin on his shirt, taking a long while to respond. "Er…" he hedges.

"Mr. Chekov?" Kirk fixes him with his best no-nonsense captain glare.

"Maybe… sixty percent."

"Sixty percent seems like an unusually generic number, Mr. Chekov," Spock says. "Do you have an accurate number for us?"

Chekov winces. "Maybe sixty nine point four five percent, Mr. Spock."

"So seventy percent," Bones summarizes, pushing his bowl away. Suddenly, he doesn't feel much like eating anymore.

"That's not too bad," Kirk says, ever the eternal optimist.

"On the contrary, Captain, sixty nine point four five percent yields us approximately thirty one percent of success. Hardly good odds." Spock continues to sip at his soup. "I am afraid that this is not a feasible option."

"There's got to be another way," Bones says.

"I concur with the doctor. Often when faced with a problem I discover that there are multiple ways to solve it. There is never just one-"

"Alright, zip it, Socrates." Kirk rolls his eyes. "Mr. Chekov. Is there no other way?"

The teenager looks at his calculations. "Uh…"

"If I may, Captain," Sulu says, coming to his friend's defense. "He was up for half the night trying to figure this problem out. Give him time."

"I can figure it out," Chekov insists. "I can do that."

"No one doubts your abilities, kid," Bones says with as much reassurance as he can despite the leaden feeling in his stomach. "Just… six months is a long time."

"There is a high probability that it might be longer," Spock supplies.

Bones groans.

Kirk checks his watch and sighs. "I've got to get back to the bridge. Mr. Sulu. Mr. Chekov. With me, please. Bones, Spock, you two go do whatever you need to do. Stay safe. Don't go swapping bodies with anyone else, I've got enough on my plate."

"You speak as though we intended to perform this strange act ourselves," Spock says.

Kirk grins. "I wouldn't put it past the two of you to try and mess with me this way, actually. Now shoo. Go to the med bay or something."

Everyone leaves except Spock and Bones, the latter staring morosely into his untouched bowl of soup. "What are we going to do, Spock?" Bones asks, swirling his spoon around.

Spock only shrugs. "As I have previously advised-"

"Come on, man, don't tell me you don't feel a shred of anxiety about this situation."

Spock gathers up his bowl and Bones does the same. "Doctor, it is not the Vulcan way to expend energy thinking about such things."

"I'm the Vulcan now, and I'm still worrying."

Spock lets out a sound that vaguely sounds like a snort. "That is because emotional self-control is learnt, Doctor. It is not inherited. Vulcans do not automatically learn how to control their emotions from birth – it is a process that I think most humans would benefit from."

"And by most humans, you mean me."

"I did not say that."

"You implied it!"

Spock only lifts his shoulder casually. "You infer."

Bones glares at him. Then his shoulders slump. "Ah, damn, I hate it when you're right, Spock."

"I find that I am often correct in my presumptions." Spock folds his hands behind his back and does a little rock back and forth on his heels. Bones winces when a pair of yeomen hurry by and give Spock a strange look.

"Don't do that," he says when they're out of earshot.

"Don't do what?"

"That." Bones gestures at Spock. "Don't be so… rigid. I'm not that stiff."

Spock only gives Bones a very puzzled look. "I find that you-"

"I don't want to hear it," Bones cuts in. "Look, Jim's right. We're not very good at playing one another. And if we're going to convince anyone that we're each other, we're going to need to do much better than what we've done so far. So." He holds out a hand. "You're gonna have to teach me how to be a Vulcan, and I'm gonna have to teach you how to be human. Deal?"

Spock thinks about it for a second before he reaches out to grip Bones' hand. "Very well, Doctor. However, I feel that I should warn you that I am already half human and as such, am well aware of those emotions. We will most likely be spending most of the time teaching you."

Bones scowls at him. "Fine." And then he remembers that he has a much stronger grip now that he has Vulcan strength, and as such takes a little bit of delight in watching a flicker of pain cross Spock's new face.

"Where shall we begin?" Spock asks, falling into step with Bones.

"Well. Since you said that you would find adjusting to being me much easier, I thought we would start in the med bay." Bones rubs his hands together. "You're going to be the CMO, so we'd best get you started."

Spock blinks owlishly. "Very well, Doctor."

"You think it's going to be easy, don't you."

"My presumptions are very rarely wrong."

Bones only bares his teeth in a strange caricature of a grin. "Alright, Spock. We'll start with the hard stuff, then."

Will Spock ever be wrong? Stay tuned to find out.

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