A/N: Well, I seem to be with child. It's hard to find time to write when you're busy with day-to-day life but easy when you're perpetually laid up with severe morning sickness. I've been feeling a great deal of sympathy for Spock these days. So here is the next bit of whatever this is going to become.

Spock was beginning to consider the possibility that the captain would not be returning.

Captain Kirk had been absent for a substantial amount of time. Spock could not be quite sure of precisely how much time had passed – another indication that he was not entirely in control of his mental faculties – but even if he had been travelling at a leisurely pace the captain would certainly have returned by now.

Reflecting on their previous conversation as he shivered on the bathroom floor, Spock recalled that Kirk had specifically said that he would return "shortly." Of course, the word has variable definitions but from the way he had left the room in such haste and made a point of reassuring him that he would return after a brief interval, Spock had inferred that the captain's intended course of action was to briefly reunite with the others, excuse them both, and come back to the room immediately without detour or delay.

He had seemingly been incorrect.

The Vulcan braced himself against the bathroom wall as his heart began to race and his mouth was once again flooded with saliva. Not that it really mattered whether or not Jim returned. There was little that he could do for him right now. Not unless he made a habit of carrying antiemetics in his person which was highly unlikely, even for someone with as many food allergies and intolerances as Jim Kirk.

When he could no longer ignore the urge Spock crawled back over to the toilet, leaned over the bowl, and after panting for a moment he began vomiting bile. Initially Spock had believed that once the offending substance was ejected from his body, his symptoms would begin to subside. Unfortunately it appeared that the opposite was true. The vomiting seemed to become more frequent and intense with each episode despite the growing hollow feeling in his abdomen. And as unpleasant as his nausea was, it was nothing compared to the pain. With the effort of retching over and over, Spock felt as though he had strained all of the muscles in his abdomen making this a uniquely painful experience.

This episode felt much longer than the ones that had come before. Or perhaps it was just the fatigue affecting his mind. After what seemed to be a very long time Spock gingerly settled himself back against the wall. Then the shivering resumed and the cycle was complete once again.

Spock was beginning to consider that perhaps it was time to admit defeat and surrender himself into the doctor's care. It was simply not logical to remain planetside if the illness did not appear to be resolving without assistance. Furthermore if his ailment had not run its course by morning, and it certainly showed no signs of doing so, he would be obligated to return to the Enterprise and present himself to the medical staff regardless. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. Spock also realized that he ran the risk of becoming dehydrated and developing an electrolyte imbalance if he was not able to hold down any fluids.

Yes, his current course of action was certainly most illogical. Spock resolved to contact the Enterprise presently.

...

...Several minutes passed and Spock made no attempt to access his communicator. Evidently resolving to follow a course of action and taking steps to achieve the decided-upon goal would require varying degrees of motivation.

He briefly considered the very real possibility that he might vomit on the transporter pad upon return to the ship.

Spock then experienced a moment of extreme distress - to call it panic would be a fair assessment - but he immediately quashed it before he could become entirely overwhelmed.

He had to stay in control of his emotions. It was imperative. Panicking was never productive but it would be even less beneficial in this situation. And so Spock decided that he would be calm. As a Vulcan and as a Starfleet officer he had been trained to remain impassive and focused even in dire circumstances. He would not "lose his cool" as the colloquialism went, surely referring to the human race's affinity for assigning temperatures to states of emotion such as "warm affection" and "ice cold fear." Spock drew his arms up around his body as he continued to shiver. Given that the temperature in his quarters was so unacceptably low would they consider losing his temper and flying into a "red hot rage" to be a fitting solution? As it was, Spock was experiencing mild irritation due to the lapse in the climate control of the room. Generally the temperature of his private quarters was maintained at a considerably high level so to return after his shift to find the atmosphere was significantly cooler than the rest of the ship was intolerable. Perhaps the system which assessed the current temperature of the room was malfunctioning. He would have to contact engineering to report the issue and have it properly seen to.

Spock lifted himself up off of the floor, paid no heed to the surprisingly noisy sound which his stomach gave in protest, and after a long moment spent steeling himself against the light-headedness which threatened to send him staggering into the wall he walked, somewhat steadily, into the main room.

What followed next for Spock was a long moment spent looking for the door. According to his memory the exit to his room was located to his right but now it was located to his left and furthermore there appeared to be a window where his door used to be. It was perplexing. He spent a long moment wracking his fever-addled brain, analyzing whether the newly relocated door would still lead to the hallway. These changes, of which he had received no prior notification, would also need to be addressed with engineering. Unable to locate any means of communication nearby, it seemed necessary to travel to the engineering department where he could speak with Lieutenant Commander Scott directly.

Dazedly, he passed through the door but to his consternation this only led to further questions. Spock was completely disoriented by the sudden awareness that he was entirely unfamiliar with his surroundings. This hallway did not resemble that of a starship.

...But he must be on the Enterprise because there was the captain coming toward him down the unfamiliar hallway.

When Jim first turned the final corner and found Spock standing outside of his room he couldn't have been more pleased. 'I guess he's feeling better!' he thought with no small amount of relief. Thank the stars above! Now Spock could head back up to the ship without any unwanted attention, he could rejoin the landing party and enjoy the company of the Madosians, and best of all no one would get in trouble for damaging Starfleet's half-Vulcan golden boy.

And then Spock spoke. "Jim..." he said in a strange, disconnected sounding voice, "the Enterprise...they have changed the hallways."

Well, that line certainly caught his attention. "What th-," he started, and then he actually got close enough to Spock to actually see him and realized that the man was far from okay. Spock looked green and not just metaphorically speaking. His face was flushed and his eyes were bloodshot. And he was swaying slightly. It was so weird. "Uh," Jim said carefully, "What are you talking about?"

Spock gave a vague sort of look around at their surroundings and then shook his head. "I do not understand...When were the doors relocated?"

'Oh fuck,' Jim thought in horror as he stared slack-jawed at Spock. 'His mind is broken!' Just perfect. The last thing he needed on his hands was a man who was able to pick him up and throw him across the room and not currently in possession of his mental faculties. The idea of contacting Bones and having him retrieve the first officer was looking more and more appealing by the second.

Instead Jim gave it the old college try and assumed what he figured was a non-threatening stance. "Ok, Spock," Jim said gently, as though speaking to a young child, "I think it's time for you to go to bed now."

Spock's brow furrowed as he glanced down at the floor – he seemed to be deep in thought. "The time...I cannot recall." Then he fixed his glassy eyes back on Jim. "What is the current time, Captain?"

"You don't know?" Jim exclaimed in mock surprise. "That's not like you! You must be really tired!" Spock seemed to be considering this so he continued. "Anyway, it's very late. You look like you were just about to go to sleep."

To Jim's great relief, Spock actually nodded his head in agreement. "Yes..." he said quietly. "Yes, I am quite fatigued..."

"Ok then!" Jim said enthusiastically as he gestured toward the door. "In you go!" And fortunately, Spock entered the room without any protest.

When Spock froze in his tracks halfway into the room, Jim knew that his good luck had ended in the worst possible way. "Spock?" he called out cautiously.

Spock paused for a moment, glanced quickly around the room, and clapped one hand over his mouth. Jim watched in horror as his first officer spun on his heel, took two quick steps forward, bent in half, and vomited through his fingers onto the floor.

Jim's fingers tightened reflexively around the hypospray that McCoy had just given him, the one that he had briefly forgotten about upon discovering Spock in the hallway, the one that could have been put to good use about 45 seconds ago. He glanced down at the shiny stainless steel object with a grimace before stowing it safely in the waistband of his trousers. Then he hovered behind Spock hesitantly for a moment before taking the taller man by the shoulders and steering him toward the lavatory, avoiding the mess on the floor. "Come on, let's go this way," he said in the most reassuring voice he could muster. "We'll get you cleaned up. No problem."

Spock was silent as Jim brought him into the washroom and filled the basin with water. His hand was still hovering in front of his mouth as Jim positioned him in front of the sink, placed a damp cloth in Spock's other hand and took hold of his forearm to guide it up toward Spock's face. And all the while, he was talking. Jim did not seem to be saying anything of consequence as far as Spock could tell; he was having some trouble following the one-sided conversation. But he did catch "...don't worry, this kind of thing happens to everyone..." and "...nothing to be embarrassed about..." and "...look at it this way; at least you don't have the squirts at the same time. Trust me, that's the worst." And while Spock did not find that statement satisfactory at all, he did understand Jim's intention. And through the haze in his fever-addled mind, he appreciated the effort.

Once he was cleaned up, Jim took hold of Spock's shoulders once again and steered him back through the room to the bed. He was dismayed by the amount of heat coming off the guy despite his obvious shivering. "Spock, I don't know what temperature you're supposed to be," Jim remarked, "But I'm pretty sure you're way hotter than normal." It would serve to explain a lot. And Spock, who had seemingly abandoned any attempt to pass his illness off as nothing, replied with a soft, "That is a fair assessment."

Spock sat heavily down and barely had time to blink before Jim knelt down before him, pulling a small metal device into view. "Alright Spock," Jim started as he held up the hard won hypo, "This is for you. It's going to make you feel a lot better but you're probably going to pass out for a few hours."

Spock closed his eyes, looking as tired as Jim had ever seen him. "I welcome it."

Jim took that as permission to administer the medication so he held it up to the half-Vulcan's neck and deployed the plunger with a hiss. Spock didn't so much as flinch. He watched Spock for a moment, wondering how long it would take for the drug to kick in. Hopefully soon enough that they could avoid another fiasco. But barely a few seconds had elapsed before Spock's head suddenly dropped toward his chest and then popped back up as he was jerked back into consciousness, his eyes wide open but glassy and distant.

Jim chuckled as he lowered the empty hypo to the floor. "Well, that was quick." Although after everything Spock had been through that evening it was no surprise that the sedating effect of the medication was enough to do him in. He grabbed the hem of the blue science officer's shirt and pulled it up over Spock's head to reveal the soft black undershirt beneath. Then he placed his hands flat against Spock' chest and gave a gentle push. "Alright, it's night night time!" he said to his drugged out first officer.

Spock gave an unfocused mutter and laid down on the bed without any resistance and within a matter of seconds his eyes were once again closed and his breath evened out as he finally fell asleep.

Jim breathed a sigh of relief. It was a good thing he'd promised not to tell anyone about this because he was pretty sure they wouldn't believe him without photographic evidence. He could barely take it all in himself. 'Yeah, this is about as unlikely a set of circumstances as I could have imagined' he thought with a shake of his head, 'but, well, here we are!'

With Spock now out of commission Jim set about wrestling off his boots, pulling the blankets up over him, and then as an afterthought, finding and soaking a cloth to place on the Vulcan's forehead in an attempt to dispel some of that unnatural heat from his body. After taking care of the mess from their earlier mishap Jim stood back and felt pretty damn pleased with himself. Even Bones would be proud of him. Too bad he would never know.

Now there was really nothing left for Jim to do but go to sleep himself. He couldn't really head out to find the other men when he and Spock weren't supposed to be back until the morning. Besides, he didn't really feel like socializing anymore. But before he could leave for his own assigned quarters a thought came to him – what if Spock woke up all disoriented and confused again. There would be no way for him to know...unless he stayed in this room tonight.

Now that the thought had occurred to him he couldn't shake it. Damn it. Without a chair in the room there was nothing for him to do but settle himself down beside the bed with his head resting against the mattress. It would be an uncomfortable-as-hell sleep but it was only for one night. With one final glance up at the sleeping Vulcan, Jim closed his eyes and fell asleep to the sound of Spock's soft, even breathing.

...

When Spock finally opened his eyes again the room was bathed in the dim sunlight of very early morning. It took him a moment to recognize his surroundings. He was still planetside. On Mados III. Gradually he noticed that his limbs felt heavy and disconnected and he was having some difficulty focusing – telltale signs that he had been under some form of sedation.

After a moment of searching his memory Spock began to piece it all together. He'd become ill after supper. The captain had discovered him in his assigned quarters. Kirk had promised to refrain from telling the others about his condition and left to excuse them both. When he returned...Spock found that his memory became incomplete at this point. He'd been confused and very unwell and the captain...

The captain had given him assistance. He could recall the feeling of the younger man's warm hands on his shoulders, steadying him as they walked together, bits and pieces of sentences, Kirk's voice trying to reassure him. As Spock slowly sat up in the bed something white fell from his face. He glanced down into his lap at the now dry cloth. Ah. He had been fevered. That explained the lapse in memory. For a moment he assessed his condition. The nausea had all but resolved completely. In fact, he found that his appetite had returned and he was in need of nourishment. He also found that his boots and blue uniform had been removed, the shirt folded neatly at the foot of the bed. And his boots...

Spock glanced over the side of the bed for his missing footwear which was sitting just as neatly a short distance away. However it was quickly forgotten when he noticed the tousled blonde head of hair resting against the mattress. His eyes widened slightly in surprise. There was Kirk, sitting by the side of his bed, fast asleep and looking as though he had been there for hours. "Captain?" When the sleeping man didn't respond Spock tentatively reached out and gave his shoulder a gentle nudge. "Captain. Wake up."

At this Jim said, "Mmmuuurrrrh" which prompted a raised eyebrow from Spock. A moment later he opened his eyes, ran one hand over his face, and glanced back over his shoulder. "Hey," Jim said in a gravelly voice and then cleared his throat. "How'er'ya feelin'?"

"I seem to be almost completely recovered," Spock replied as he looked down at the bleary-eyed man.

"Glad to hear it," Jim said with a sleepy half-grin. "It's good to see you looking and sounding back to normal."

Rather than point out that it is impossible for one to perceive sound using one's sense of sight, Spock asked, "Have you been sitting there for the entire night, Captain?"

"Jim," he replied with a grunt as he began to heft himself up off of the floor. "It's Jim, Spock. And yes, I have." As if on cue his back gave a loud crack of complaint.

"...I appreciate your concern," Spock said as he began to rise out of the bed. "And the attentiveness you demonstrated at the expense of your own comfort, Captain."

At this Jim gave an agitated sigh. "For fuck's sake! Can't you just call me by my name? Is it that big of a hang up for you?"

Spock took a moment to decide how to respond. "...Regardless of our current circumstances we are technically still on duty. Therefore it is appropriate that I address y-"

"Look!" Jim interjected with a dismissive wave of his hand, effectively cutting him off. "I don't care about any of that. You didn't have a problem calling me Jim last night and you shouldn't have a problem with calling me Jim now!"

Spock didn't respond. He was too focused on trying to recall exactly what he had said and when he had said it but found that he was unable. As though he could read the Vulcan's mind, Jim carried on. "I don't know how much you remember about last night but what I did for you? I wouldn't just do that for anyone." He took a few steps toward Spock and raised one hand to point at him, his features set in a look of intense determination. "We're friends now, ok? You are me are friends. So unless we're on the bridge you call me Jim. Got it?"

And Spock could not think of any acceptable response in the face of Jim's intensity except to say "Affirmative." And then a few seconds later, because Jim was still staring at him intently, Spock added, "Jim."

At this Jim seemed satisfied and his arm dropped back to his side. "Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to go rinse off before we have to be back on the ship." He walked toward the door and gave a backwards wave. "See ya in a bit, Spock."

After the door shut and Jim disappeared from sight, Spock sat back down on the bed and began to pull on his boots. Soon they would meet with the other crew members and beam back up to the ship to return to their posts and, as Jim had promised to refrain from sharing the details of the prior evening with anyone else, everything would remain unchanged.

Everything except his relationship with the Captain. It is understandable, having observed an individual with whom you have a strictly professional relationship in an utterly compromised position, that the experience could impact your perception of them in one way or another. Still, it did seem odd that Jim would, based on the events of the previous evening, determine that they were no longer simply colleagues, but also friends.

As he rose from the bed, Spock considered how he felt about having Jim Kirk as both his captain and his friend.

He decided that he found it agreeable.

There you have it. It's very late and I've finally finished this story arc. I'm thinking of writing a second part in which the tables are turned and Jim is the one in need of looking after but whether his ailment is emotional, physical, or mental I haven't figured out yet. If anyone would be interested or has any ideas they'd like to suggest please let me know. Otherwise thank you for reading!