Chapter Text
Since their last trip to a space station, the sounds of coughing, sneezing and snuffling became a common one among the crew of the USS Enterprise. It was strange, really. One would think, in space, the whole idea of flu season would be left well behind.
But currently, much to the irritation of everyone aboard the ship, that was not the case and as Spock discreetly turned to view his Captain (again), he noticed that (again) Jim was fanning a hand in front of his delicate nose before directing yet another sneeze into his elbow.
Of course, no one would mention it, but as arguably the busiest person on the ship who cared waaaay too much about his crew, who had ensured those who were sick got proper rest in order to recover and who was often under the most stress it only seemed natural that the Captain had been hit with a case of the common cold and would continue to work through it, rather than rest himself.
Illogical, Spock thought to himself, as he heard his friend sniff again.
Discreetly, rather than comm the ship's physician, he turned back to his console and typed a message to Doctor McCoy. {Doctor McCoy, are you currently in medical bay?}
After a few minutes, a grouchy reply came though, so typical of the doctor, [Of course, I'm in medbay, Spock, where else would I be?]
{The Captain is exhibiting symptoms of the virus that has afflicted the crew as of late.}
[Of course he is.]
{He is not taking rest and rehabilitation, as one should when ill.}
[Of course he's not. And you're worried about him]
{Worry would imply human emotionalism,Doctor, I am merely ensuring the Captain's health is at its peak in order for him to effectively command the ship, as per my duty as First Officer.}
Spock could almost hear the southern doctor sigh from the other end of the console, [Ha. Okay.]
Spock frowned. He recognised that as sarcasm but why? Was there anything unusual or unbelievable about his statement? After a minute of pondering this, he decided to ignore whatever snide implication McCoy was making and typed back,
{Can I rely on your medical expertise in order to effectively encourage the Captain to take time off in order to recover, or not, Doctor?}
But Spock never got a reply, and within five minutes McCoy appeared on the bridge, strolling over to Jim.
Jim, usually bright and ever-pleased to see his friend, looked nervously over his shoulder and back to the screen in front of him, trying to conceal the fact that he was breathing through his mouth.
McCoy, as ever, took some sort of grumpy pleasure in getting one over a patient and very deliberately leaning over his Captain. "Jim." he greeted.
Jim cleared his throat best he could but could only manage a quiet, rough, "BcCoy."
The crew shifted, not wanting to openly stare, but they knew what was about to happen and they knew who was responsible for it. The silence radiated and Spock openly turned to watch as McCoy stared down at Jim, waiting.
"Well, whad cad I do your for, Bodes?"
The doctor chuckled, "Well, you can get my name right for starters, second of all, you can come down to Sickbay and book yourself in for a physical."
"A physical? Dow? Bodes, I'b od duty..."
"A little birdie told me you might want a visit from your friendly family doctor about a certain virus affecting your upper respiratory tract and how it might affect your fitness for duty. Now, would you have any idea what that bird might be talking about?" McCoy smiled.
Spock rolled his eyes. The doctor had an unquestionable proclivity for illogical banter when there were more pressing issues at hand.
Pressing issues? Yes, the Captain's health was a pressing issue but surely not so much that it would occupy his mind like this? The common cold was just that. Common. Although there was no cure, it was a rare thing for it to affect a person severely. There was little doubt in his mind that Jim would recover within a few days with some rest so why...did this issue press on his mind so? Why did he watch the doctor interact with Jim when he could be working?
"Bodes, I really dod't deed..." Jim protested,
"Don't make me pull medical rank on you, Jim." McCoy snapped back,
"You wouldn't dare..."
"I damn well would, now get down to sickbay before I have Mr Spock carry you there. And don't think he wouldn't!"
Jim turned to eye Spock suspiciously, "I'll bet. Bodes, this little bird of your's would't happed to be greed would it? Ad have poidted ears?"
"Never mind! Come on..."
"Spock, you have the cod." Jim managed to force out before smothering hacking coughs into his sleeve, allowing himself to be dragged away by the ship's surgeon.