Duty

Jim opened his mouth to protest, to retort, to fight back. But he didn't: There was really no point.

Besides, Bones was right.

After a moment, Kirk climbed to his feet, and tried pacing a few of his own thoughts out. His hesitant perambulation was interrupted by the doctor's rough drawl. "I'm sorry, Jim," he said, "I know you think I hate the guy – and I admit, sometimes I find him hard to like. But I respect him."

At Jim's look, the doctor stood, came over to him. With a serious voice he continued, "No, I do. But, Jim, I…" He looked uncomfortable: He glanced away, a second, then met Jim's eyes, his expression unintentionally revealing. "Tell me: You think there's anybody else on this ship who hasn't got a price?"

At Jim's silent negative, Bones shook his head, too. "You, me, Sulu, we all got things that we're not willing to sacrifice - that we can't. That's part of being human. But Spock…"

He sighed, and decided on a different approach: "Okay. Look at it like this – You want a day off, what do you do?"

Jim didn't have to think. "I tell Spock I'm taking the day off."

"He just nods, and makes a note?"

Jim gave a small shrug. "Sure, why not?"

"Yeah," Bones said, "Me, too. I say, 'Commander, I need a day off,' and he writes it down. No big deal.

"People in my department want time off, same thing: I adjust the duty roster, and Spock signs off on it. He might ask a question – and believe you me, he notices everything, even if he chooses not to comment – but he's willing to accept at face value what we tell him, if we say that that's what we need. Sure, if suddenly I take four days in a row, he might baulk; but he's not really as much a stickler for the rules as everybody thinks he is: He gets that we're gonna be out here a long time, and he's willing to make allowances. He can keep track and make sure it all works out in the end, and it pretty much always does, you know?"

"Yes."

"Right. So, you and me: We stay up too late, drink too much, and last minute we decide we need the day off… That's not regulation - I mean, there's no advanced notice… People are going to have to cover for us, while we work through our splitting headaches, right?"

"Yeah…"

"So, we tell Spock, what? 'Commander, I need the day off'?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"You're the Captain. It's your ship. He's not going to say a thing about it – And he'll likely do your job himself… And because of that, I'm betting you're not going to take advantage too often. Am I right?"

"Yes," Jim said, "Yes, you are."

"But here's the thing: You'll do it, and he'll accept it."

And that, Jim supposed, was absolutely true.

McCoy's expression said he was reaching, now, and didn't much care for what he found: "I think he accepts it in part because he doesn't really understand it."

Perhaps the confusion in Jim's face registered, because the doctor rounded on him. "Seriously, do we need the day off? No, we don't. We want the day off.

"There's a difference. We know there is, even if we don't want to admit it.

"But Spock doesn't.

"He wouldn't say he needed a day off, if he didn't. Even if he wanted one… He's not gonna lie. Spock doesn't need the day off, so he won't take it. He doesn't need a vacation, so he won't go – In fact, he stays on the ship so we feel like we can leave it."

Tghe doctor's brow creased in a scowl. "Don't even get me started on that man's personal definition of 'sick or injured'…"

The scowl grew deeper, and Jim found himself warding off grave recollections…

After a minute he could hear Bones grumbling half-under-his-breath. "…Make 'allowances for human weakness,' sure - but Vulcan weakness? No such thing." McCoy glanced up, and noticed Jim watching him. His mouth twisted again in its habitual wry dismissal, and the creases eased off.

"Well, anyway," the doctor observed, steadily, facing his Captain head-on, "Spock still has his days-off on the original rotation – He's never bothered to modify that: Like you said, he mostly works through them anyway. And his leave-time just accumulates, and no one says 'boo.'

"I think you're right, that he simply doesn't know what to do – That's part of it, at least. So, yeah, he gets interested in a project, and uses a 'day-off' to work on it and I guess that for him that constitutes adequate 'need'. You and me, we'd just say, 'Guys, this is how I am spending my workday…' and that'd be that. But not Spock.

"I think that there's more to it than that – and I think, like Spock himself, it's all a little complicated."

And with that, Jim heartily agreed. He started to say so.

But the doctor wasn't done.

"Spock takes his duty seriously, Jim."

No argument, there.

Jim nodded, and crossed his arms, waiting. McCoy was watching his face – checking, maybe, that he was really listening.

"And he is one seriously principled guy.

"He is not going to take advantage of his position. Not even one iota: He is very, very careful to separate the 'official' and 'unofficial' parts of what he does - even though, in the end (as much as he works), it's all the same.

"But it might not be…

"'Cause there's Uhura, too."

Jim shifted, uncomfortably; McCoy noticed. He nodded.

"Yeah, I know." The doctor looked away, again, before meeting Jim's uneasy gaze – his eyes reflecting his own disquiet.

"So, Captain, here's a question for you: Do you have any idea the last time those two had a whole day-off together? No? I didn't, either. I checked, and it's been for-fricking-ever." His raised eyebrows and wide eyes showed his surprise at that discovery. "Months. Seriously. Me, I'd have thought they'd manage to arrange it at least every once in a while. I mean, c'mon: She writes up the schedule for Communications, and he signs off on it. It would be a piece of cake, even if somebody decided to take an interest – which they're not gonna. (And, hey, if you did, would you even notice that?) But no, not. Apparently, they are both so careful to avoid any appearance of favoritism that they are pretty much willing to give up whatever to that end - Or he is, which amounts to the same thing."

Bones was frowning at him, now. "Maybe that's fine. I don't know…

"But it's not natural. (Even Starfleet regs are written for the guys that are gonna try to get around 'em every now-and-then.) I'm betting – everything else being equal – she'd like to have a little extra time with him. Would that be so bad?"

Unbidden, Jim's brain skipped back to last night in the Officer's Mess, and his own thoughts as he watched Spock and Uhura walk away, side-by-side, neither touching nor touched. It was sad, really - and, yeah, unnecessary (surely?) – certainly, at least, to the extent Bones described.

One thing was for damned sure: They were all going to be out here a long, long time.