Title: Keeping Up Appearances
Characters: Spock, McCoy, tiny bit of Kirk
Rating: K
Word Count: 469 because I am too lazy to cut it down to a set number
Summary/Warning: Missing scene from the end of Immunity Syndrome. Usual episode spoilers.
Pleased at his successful return, though more pleased that he had been permitted to go instead of Dr. McCoy, he had not expected his first encounter with a crewman to be the physician in question.
The unpleasantness of that alone was exacerbated by the fact that as the turbolift doors opened to reveal the CMO, they also revealed the Captain, apparently unconscious, slumped against the floor and wall of the lift.
"He was dead on his feet before we dropped two decks," McCoy grunted as the First Officer bent to one knee, in the doorway to prevent its closing on them.
"Doctor?"
"Oh, for the love of...It's an expression, Spock." An annoyed look. "No sleep for four days, barely any before that, and living on coffee and those blasted stimulants for the last forty-eight hours will do that to a human – not that you'd know. I told him that last dose wasn't a good idea but what do I know? I'm only the Chief Medical Officer; my opinions don't matter a-tall!"
He was silent during the remainder of the colorful diatribe, well knowing that McCoy's way of releasing emotion was to attack the first likely candidate for its target; the verbal dance was a habit now, and one that was not unwelcome if he were to be completely frank with himself.
"Well don't just stand there lookin' at me, help me get 'im to Sickbay!" McCoy snapped, yanking one limp arm over his shoulder and trying to stagger to his feet.
After a momentary hesitation, the First Officer moved to help, taking the Captain's other arm in a strong grip.
"Good Lord…he's goin' on another diet as soon as we get those stimulants out of his system," the physician grunted painfully, his side of the unconscious man dragging far more than the Vulcan's side.
The jolting motion seemed to bring Kirk slightly back to consciousness, for he muttered something and tried to move his feet, though rather unsuccessfully.
"Perhaps it would expedite matters if I were to carry him, Doctor?"
"Not in front of his crew," McCoy replied softly, indicating the occasional ensign passing in cross-corridors. "It's bad enough that we're both obviously helpin' him."
"I do not believe the crew would expect differently, Doctor," he answered, just as gently.
"No, I don't guess so."
For one peaceful moment he shared a more comfortable look with the CMO over the captain's limp head, the argument of earlier forgotten in a common cause.
When they realized said common cause had managed to return to his senses to a small degree and was staring disbelievingly back and forth between them, the hastily-resumed argument over who was more qualified to have taken the shuttle and why drew the attention of every crewman within a hundred meters.
The Captain wisely decided to pass out again.