A/N: Sorry for the long delay in posting – RL is a busy place. Having written this story this far I'm playing around with the idea of turning this into a longer project – a multi-part story about the development of Spock and Jim's relationship focusing on times when one has had to take care of the other and how they come to rely on one another. If anyone is interested please feel free to PM me and let me know what you think. Also, sorry about any inconsistencies with the formatting in this baby. I plan on reediting it all. Anyway, onto the whump...

Things just weren't panning out for Jim. The put-upon young captain found himself backtracking his way toward the point where he'd left his men and the Madosians and as he walked he tried to come up with a convincing excuse, a way to explain to the landing party and their hosts why both the captain and the first officer would not be joining them. So far he was having trouble coming up with a convincing lie.

He couldn't just tell everyone that he and Spock had to return to the ship. At first that seemed like the obvious answer; no one would question him on it. But Jim quickly realized that if the landing party needed to reach him for any reason the first thing they'd do would be contact the bridge. He would not be there. Neither would Spock. And then everyone involved would freak out just a little bit as someone, probably Uhura, jumped on the horn to ask him where the hell they were and what had happened to them. And at that point he'd be forced to spill the beans and Spock would wind up in sickbay anyway and Jim wouldprobably catch hell for all of his efforts. It was a terrible plan. But he wasn't really coming up with a better one.

It would be so much easier just to be able to say, "Sorry guys, I gotta go make sure Spock doesn't pass out and aspirate his vomit." Hell, it would be so much easier just to page Bones and pass all of the responsibility for Spock's wellbeing onto him – this type of thing was his job after all. But somehow he'd made a promise to Spock not to tell anyone that he was bowing before the porcelain throne. What a stupid thing to do.

"Damn it Spock," Jim muttered as he marched his way along the hall. Half an hour ago he'd been gearing up for a long overdue evening of guilt-free hang out time with some of the boys and a couple of easy going aliens. Now by the looks of things he was headed toward a long night of holding back Spock's hair. Spending an evening alone with Spock wouldn't be Jim's first choice on a normal day. Spending an evening with a Spock who was projectile vomiting, out-of-it, and considerably less receptive to his attempts at conversation than usual? Not his idea of a good time.

How often do peace keeping meetings end with drinks on the house? Not bloody often. And here he was passing it all up for Spock when, to be honest, Jim wasn't whether the guy even liked him. What a joke.

It was at this point that Jim slammed on the brakes and stood shock still in the middle of the hallway. "Why am I even doing this?" he asked the empty space in front of him. It didn't make any sense. He was passing up a good time and potentially getting himself in trouble in the process and he was doing it for someone who definitely wouldn't be inclined to do the same thing for him if the tables were turned. It certainly called his reasoning into question.

As it turned out, Jim didn't have very long to contemplate his motive before he became aware of the unmistakable sounds of footsteps echoing down the hallway. Shit. Well, plan or no plan it was time to face the music. Jim tried to appear as natural as he could as he resumed his quick pace along the hall.

Around a corner he found himself face to face with a scaled man with freakishly oversized eyes who he immediately identified as one of the servers at supper. The man at first appeared startled and then gave a smile of recognition. "Captain Kirk," the he trilled eagerly, "where have you been hiding yourself? The assembly has been waiting on your return. Were you able to locate your missing crew member?"

Jim gave a vague gesture back over his shoulder in response to the Madosian's enthusiastic rapid-fire speaking. "I, uh, yeah," he stammered. "I...was actuallyjust coming to find you guys just now. ...In fact." 'Well, don't you just sound like a douche?' he silently admonished himself.

The enthusiastic alien didn't skip a beat. "Is everything well?" he inquired in that same overeager voice.

"Actually," Jim continued, "I was just coming to find you to explain that..." And then he trailed off. Jim was not usually one to ignore his gut and right now his gut was telling him that he was about to make this situation a lot more complicated than necessary. After a brief pause he continued, "Look, you seem like a good guy so I'm going to level with you."

He was answered with a solemn nod. "You have my attention, Captain."

"Do you remember my Vulcan first officer, the one who did a very convincing impression of a deaf mute during supper?" Big Eyes gave an encouraging nod. "Well, he's taken ill."

The alien gave a gasp and brought one scaly hand to his lips. "Oh dear," he exclaimed. "Nothing serious, I hope!" He looked so grim that it was almost funny.

Jim gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "No, no, he'll be fine! He's just not a very happy camper right now."

Big Eyes gave a sign of relief. "I am glad to hear it!"

"And I don't know how much you know about Vulcans but they're not the most open kind of people. Not just around strangers; Spock's like that with everyone, including the crew."

"And you?" the alien asked in a muted voice. He looked completely astonished.

Jim was a little taken aback. "Well, yeah," he stated dumbly. Why would Spock be any more open with him? They had a good working relationship but it wasn't like they were close or anything. Maybe these people had a hard time understanding privacy although Jim had to admit that he didn't really get Spock's need to keep everything wrapped up tightly either. "Anyway," he began again, "this is my dilemma. I've got a group of men down here who will be wondering where their captain is and a sick first officer I can't leave. I need to find a way to let them know that we won't be coming and I have to do it without telling them about Spock."

The alien solemnly nodded his scaly head in understanding. "He does not want them to know."

Jim grinned and snapped his fingers, grateful that he was getting the message across. "Yes, exactly!"

Big Eyes considered Jim for a moment. "You genuinely care about those under your command, Captain," he stated matter-of-factly. "I respect that." Before Jim could react to the unexpected praise, the Madosian gestured to the hallway behind him. "If you head back toward your rooms, take the second right, and open the first door you'll find a storage unit with some basic medical supplies. It isn't much but it should help your friend."

That last word surprised Jim. Amongst the impulse to laugh and correct the other man, pulled from somewhere in the back of his consciousness was the familiar voice of an elderly man saying, 'I have been and always shall be your friend.' Of course that Spock and the one losing his lunch down the hall were two very different individuals. But rather than get caught up in pondering the similarities and differences between the two Vulcans, and the likelihood that he and his first officer could ever reach the same level of camaraderie as their counterparts, Jim put that thought aside and gave his thanks.

The Madosian left moments later, having assured Jim that he would return to the assembly and inform them that the Captain and Mr. Spock had been coerced into taking a tour of locations of great historical significance on Mados III, that they would regroup with the landing party in the morning, and that the others were more than welcome to join in; Jim had seemed quite convinced that they would not be inclined to do so. And Jim went back to Spock.

First he stopped by the aforementioned storage unit to see if he could find anything useful. He'd been hoping for something to take the edge off of Spock's nausea, a hypospray, or even something he could take orally. Anything along those lines would suffice. Unfortunately, after fifteen minutes of fruitless searching Jim was forced to admit defeat.

"For fuck's sake," he cursed and he shoved another unhelpful box of crap back into place. There was nothing here to help Spock. Well, nothing medical. He'd found something that looked vaguely like loose leaf tea. At first he'd been excited because tea seemed exactly like the type of boring shit that Spock would be into. But then he remembered that the food was what got them into this mess in the first place so he'd shelved that idea.

A moment ago he'd been sure that he was going to find a quick-fix here. Now he realized what a foolish idea that had been. Still, he didn't want to go back empty-handed but Spock was probably beginning to think that he'd ditched him. As loathe as he was to admit it, it was beginning to look like Jim's only option was to ask Bones for help. Wonderful.

After another minute or so of procrastination, the doctor's less-than-cheerful voice rang through his communicator. "Alright," he grumbled, "What mess have you gotten your damn selves into now?"

"Hello to you too, Bones," Jim replied brightly. This was already going over well. "How are you on this fine evening?"

"Don't change the subject," McCoy replied gruffly. "The only reason why you'd be talking to me right now is because one of you has done something stupid like sticking part of your anatomy somewhere it doesn't belong. Again."

Jim eyes darted up and down the hall and ran one hand through his hair. "Could you be a little louder please? Because I don't think everyone in the building can hear you."

"Cut the crap!" He could practically hear the vein popping out on the doctor's forehead. "Let's have it."

"Ok, Jesus!" Jim lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I just wanted to know if you could beam down something for an upset stomach."

"Why?" Bones asked threateningly. "Who's sick?"

Time for Jim to see if he could pull a fast one on the good doctor. "It's me," he lied evenly, "It's not a big deal."

Bones gave a long-suffering sigh. "What did you do now?"

"It's nothing," Jim replied insistently. "Seriously. The food down here gave me gut rot is all."

"Damn it, Jim," Bones groused, "I can't let you out of my sight for more than five minutes. You're like a child!"

Jim tried not to be offended. "Thanks for having so much confidence in me. Feels good."

True to form, Bones wasn't about to let him off the hook easily. And so Jim went through the motions of answering his friend's questions with Spock in mind; Yes, he'd vomited. No, he hadn't had diarrhea. (Well, as far as he knew.) Yes, he was the only one who was feeling sick. No, he hadn't been drinking. No, he hadn't eaten anything he was allergic to. (Probably. Jim wasn't sure if Spock was allergic to anything or if Vulcans even had allergies. ) No, he hadn't been bit by any creatures or had contact with any of the native flora. No, he really hadn't been drinking!

"If you've been vomiting you should be heading up to sickbay so I can give you some fluids," Bones said resolutely. "If you become dehydrated you're going to be a lot more uncomfortable than you are right now."

By now Jim was feeling worn out from the interrogation. He was leaning back against the wall and trying to keep from beating his head against it. "I am fine, ok?" he said flatly. "Are you going to send something down?"

There was a long pause. Finally, Bones said, "If anything changes, you'll beam your ass up here immediately, you hear me, boy?"

Relieved, Jim answered, "Loud and clear."

And so, after a long battle Jim was in possession of one anti-nauseant hypospray. "I got it," he said as he pocketed the medicine. "Thanks Bones."

"You just remember what I told you," the doctor replied. "If get worse or if it doesn't get any better then y-"

"I'll cart my ass up to sickbay," Jim finished for him. "I understand. Are we done now?"

There was a pause. "...Why do I get the feeling that you're feeding me a cock and bull story to cover your ass?"

"Goodnight, Bones," Jim said with a grin. And with that he shut off his communicator and started back down the hall toward Spock.