Chapter 3: Rumors
No matter what warning McCoy gave Chapel he could not make the woman understand that the First Officer was not interested in her. She continued to throw herself at the Vulcan at every opportunity. At first, McCoy believed it to be primarily concerned with rank and that his female assistant only wished to become connected to a man in high position. Surely, the only attraction to such a man would be determined by power or even physical appearance alone.
It was only after many weeks that he understood her affection was serious, and though he hated to admit it, the Doctor understood the reason why. The Vulcan did hold a certain charisma in his own unique way. He was smart, forceful and honest, sometimes painfully so. However, at least you knew where you stood with the man. While other officers smiled to your face and aimed axes at your back, such honesty was welcome. Attracted by this fact, and feeling a contempt bristling off most others on board the spaceship, the Doctor found himself crossing paths and will with Spock more and more often. In many ways it was as much a form of therapy for McCoy, whose days were filled with screams of pain, doing things he did not want to and analyzing the rest of the crew's twisted psyches, fearing that some of that darkness may creep into his own soul.
Spock took these discussions with the same impassiveness he gave to everything but he would argue with the Doctor, paying more attention to him than anyone other than the Captain.
Soon the human and the Vulcan came to verbally sparring frequently. While it exhausted him and he felt he failed more times than he succeeded, McCoy looked forward to the times he argued viciously with the First Officer.
Spock never showed any sign of whether he enjoyed it or not but at least he gave no sign that he was upset over it. McCoy had seen the result when the Vulcan was not pleased. When he would not rely on the agonizer, he turned to breaking bones, and bruising flesh. But even this seemed done with the same casual reserve and coolness.
If anyone was upset over the ongoing arguments it was Nurse Chapel and Captain Kirk. Chapel hated it for her jealousy that the Vulcan was not centered on her and Kirk because it annoyed him and stole away attention focused solely on him.
"Jabber, Jabber, Jabber," Kirk said once. "I can't think when you two go at it!"
They still argued in the Captain's presence though, seemingly unable to stop it.
Once Spock visited the Sickbay to find out how a wounded Ensign Chekov was faring, wounds he had been responsible for.
"I should have used my agonizer," Spock reprimanded himself with no sign of guilt. "I did not mean to throw him so forcefully but I suppose he was weaker than I expected. I did not know that he would hit the wall head first."
"Little difference it will make," McCoy insulted the sleeping man. "You didn't come to give him an apology did you?"
Spock gave no indication that he had. "Chekov deserved the discipline. He was late," Spock stated. "I merely regret my failure to foresee the incident and deprive the mission of a man much needed."
McCoy nodded his head. He could easily argue that there would be several men and women willing to take his place but he was tired and continually asking himself why he had signed onto the mission.
A loud noise suddenly broke the silence, as the clanging of metal falling to the floor caused both men to look and find Chapel kneeling over a tray of dropped medical instruments that looked more like weapons.
"Damn it Chapel!" McCoy shouted.
"I'm sorry," she whispered but looked at the Vulcan during her apology.
"I will be returning to the Bridge," Spock said, never placing his eyes on the woman once. McCoy nodded, Spock saluted and left, passing the woman without even glancing at her.
The Doctor turned his attention to the Nurse. Pity urged him to go to her even though he chastised himself that there was no room for it here or anywhere else. Still he walked towards her and began to help her place the fallen items back on the tray.
McCoy noticed once again how the woman's uniform was shrinking in another failed attempt to get Spock to notice her. The only good it did was to lure several lustful men and women to the Sickbay without any true ailment. The one thing that really caught the Doctor's eyes was not the increasing length of Chapel's cleavage but the blood that was staining what little fabric remained. Those stains became darker and darker until they could not be washed away. McCoy wondered if he was the only one who noticed the stains. Sometimes he even wondered if they really did become darker at all or if it was only his imagination. He absently remembered some line from a Shakespeare play… One about a woman's sanity being lost has she tried in vain to get the blood from off her hands.
Looking at the woman's face now, McCoy saw her shoulders shaking and water running down the ivory of her cheek. Against his own will, the Doctor reached out and placed a hand on Chapel's shoulder. She looked up; her blue eyes drowning in unshed tears.
"You can go to your Quarters," McCoy ordered. "I can handle this."
The Nurse could not talk in her gratitude. She simply stood quickly and fled from the Sickbay.
McCoy returned the bloody and rusted instruments to where they had rested before. He felt himself growing weaker and older while the rest of the crew became more hard and cold. The more they lost their consciences the more he felt inadequate and too emotional to join them. The man rubbed his face and sighed.
When Spock returned to the Bridge he found another ensign at Chekov's station. He reassured himself that things were performing naturally and efficiently once more.
He would not tell anyone that he had acted has he had, not out of discipline, but from irritation. Just as Chekov would remain in the dark that the Vulcan had heard the lewd comment the younger man had made about Vulcan's and their mating rituals. He had been unseen has he had passed by the previous night. It was easily assumed by the crew that he had done it for the sake of the Terran Empire's mission and he would not correct them.
He resumed his work only turning his head away from his screen has he heard the elevator's doors open. McCoy entered the Bridge and Spock turned back to his screen once again.
"Why Sawbones!" Kirk exclaimed as he saw the Doctor. "What are you doing on my Bridge? Isn't it happy hour for you! Well I guess it usually is, regardless of time."
The Vulcan did not have to turn to study the Doctor's face. He knew that the man would be either turning red from shame or anger. By now the rumor that the physician was a drunk had widely spread like a virus. Clearly, Captain Kirk wished to aid its health and turn it into an epidemic.
"You promised me corpses last week," McCoy said. "I'm still waiting. I heard there were several casualties after…"
"Why are you so concerned with corpses?" Kirk snapped. "I remember a time when you did your studies on the living. Aren't those preferable than the dead? I keep sending you new subjects but you keep sending them back!"
There was a pause. "At least if you brought the bodies back there would be something left to bury for the families."
If Spock would allow himself to cringe he would have done so then.
"Families!" Kirk exclaimed. "You want us to waste time collecting dead for their families? They knew what they were signing up for. Our mission is far too important for us to become trash collectors. I'm disappointed in you."
"I'm just tired," McCoy said and Spock knew the words were true. He could hear it in the other man's voice.
"Well go get some sleep!" Kirk said loudly. "Drink yourself into a coma."
"What about the patients?" McCoy asked.
"If they die then there are your corpses," Kirk said jovially.
Spock listened to the footsteps of the Doctor and imagined the look of sorrow that was undoubtedly on his face.