Author: Yami no Kaiba
Beta: ntjnke
Fandom: Star Trek: TOS
Rating: PG (for naughty words)
Pairing: Spock/McCoy
Length: 2,772 words
Summary: Spock gets a present.
Disclaimers: I do not own the characters or the concepts of Star Trek in any of its forms.
Note: post-Yesteryear (From the Animated Series.)
*---*---*---*---*
Trying hard not to blush or stammer - thus giving away the lie - Leonard made sure to screw his face into the most impressive scowl in his repertoire as he shoved the badly wrapped package at Spock. "Christine made this for you."
Not even touching the crumpled, shiny blue paper, Spock raised an eyebrow as he looked down at where the package's wrapping was caving inwards, Spock's chest an immovable object in its path. "I am not aware of any Human social or religious event today that requires the bestowal of needless items upon a recipient."
Growling and already regretting this entire escapade, Leonard gave the package one last pointed push before letting it go, only slightly mollified when Spock's quick reflexes kept it from bouncing off the deck's metal floor. "There isn't one. Humans don't always need holidays as excuses to give tokens to their loved ones."
There went that eyebrow again, followed by a solemn nod as Spock's hands took a firmer hold on the crinkling paper. "Then I will be sure to thank her for the sentiment as I return... this."
Before Leonard could figure out what to say to stop him, Spock was already a few feet down the corridor, present in hand, heading towards Sickbay.
"Damn it," he hissed under his breath, his mind awhirl. Rocking on his feet for a moment, trying to figure out the best course of action now, Leonard turned and walked as fast as he could in the other direction.
*---*---*
Exiting Sickbay, Spock paused as the doors swished shut behind him. That conversation had been a most inefficient use of both their time.
Cool, smooth paper caressed his fingers, reminding him of the package that was still in his hands. Christine Chapel had been adamantly persistent in denouncing Spock's claim that she had been the originator of the gift. Though she had indicated an acute curiosity as to the contents of the package and their originator, Spock had declined the Nurse's insinuations that he should open the package.
As he himself was experiencing an equal if not greater amount of curiosity for the identity of the originator of the gift, Spock started down the corridor in search of Dr. McCoy with the intention of getting an accurate account of how the good doctor had acquired the gift.
*---*---*
The Enterprise was a big ship, with plenty of space to hide if one really wanted to.
Unfortunately, it was also bustling with crewmen. As such, corridors didn't stay empty for long. The only victory for Leonard was that Spock must have gone to the doctor's quarters first before falling back to the tried and true method of simply asking the milling crew members as to Leonard’s whereabouts.
So it was about an hour after he'd last seen Spock when the door to Recreation Room 5 swished open to admit the Vulcan First Officer, still holding the wrapped package in one hand. "Doctor, I require your assistance."
Trying to keep himself from squirming in his chair, Leonard kept his eyes on the chessboard as Lt. Wellington moved a rook. "What do you need, Spock?"
"Christine Chapel denies any knowledge of the gift you delivered to me. Therefore, I ask that you accurately identify the individual whom acquired your services in this endeavor, so that I may return the package to them."
Covering his nervous energy by leaning forward in the chair to pick up his Queen's Bishop, he growled the next lie as well as he could without indicating his guilt, "It must have been Chekov, then. I gave the kid a check-up this morning before dealing with all that administrative crap the brass piles on me. His voice tends to go up a couple octaves when he gets his vaccinations, and I was busy checking Ensign Winters' throat cultures when the thing was shoved next to me."
"Are you certain, Doctor?"
Placing his piece down and whisking up Wellington's pawn, he sat back when he was sure enough of himself to look Spock in the eye. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he said something about it being invented in Russia."
*---*---*
"I do not deny saying that, Mr. Spock. But ve vere talking about the origin of hyposprays at that time, not this," Ensign Chekov replied to Spock's inquiry with a confused expression as he handed the package back with the crackle of crumpling paper.
"I see. My apologies for interrupting your recreation, Mr. Chekov."
"It's not needed," Chekov said with a wave of his hand. "But should you find who gave this, you tell me, da?"
"Acceptable," Spock replied as he turned on his heel, walking sedately back out into the corridors.
*---*---*
Leonard was sitting at his lab bench in the Biology Labs, his old off-white lab coat thrown over his shoulders and left unbuttoned, the shirt sleeves of his uniform rolled up to his elbows. With every assay he checked, his heartbeat got just that little bit more unsteady.
It was unbelievable. The results were too good to be true.
Last assay. Was that a thin ring of clear space around the experimental chemical disk?
There was a short buzzing noise from the room at large – probably a timer on Doctor Fizbin's experiment in the corner – easily ignored, as it lasted but a few moments.
Holding his breath, Leonard slipped the last petri dish onto the stereo microscope's stage. Bending over to peer through the ocular lenses, his fingers rested lightly on the focus knobs to slowly dial the magnification back.
There it was. A clear ring of agar between the chemical and the multiplied bacteria.
It was official. Positive results across the board.
He'd done it! Grinning, he let out a whoop of laughter as he pushed away from the table. He'd found a chemical treatment that killed off all known VDs! Finally, with but one more round of treatment, he'd hopefully never have to treat James Tiberius Kirk after the man's little indiscretions ever again!
Now to just record this data –
Startled awake by the loud monotone buzz of the door chime, Leonard cursed long and loud as he dragged a pillow over his head in an attempt to drown out the noise. His mind groped sluggishly after the happy threads of his dream, the exciting taste of discovery. However, the longer he was awake, the more details slipped away until all he could remember was a vague impression of having discovered something great.
Growling as the door chime buzzed for the third time, he flipped back his tangled sheets and slipped out of bed, staggering the few feet to the door. Running a steady hand through his bed head hair, he narrowed his eyes and scowled his best scowl as he punched the button for the door release, a scathing comment on the tip of his tongue.
The comment died before it was born as he squeaked instead, the startled sound escaping a tightened larynx at he saw just how close Spock's face was when his cabin's door swished into the wall.
"Doctor, I require that you take your time in recollecting the exact identity of the person who gave you this gift."
Disgruntled at his embarrassing display – grown men didn't squeak like mice, damn it - Leonard dragged his hand slowly through his hair again, debating on telling Spock the truth.
Hell. He'd gotten this far, he might as well go all out. Eventually the green-blooded computer would give up and just open the damn thing, right?
"Maybe it was Uhura? She did come down to pick up that report from the last away mission."
Nodding, Spock turned and left, leaving Leonard awake and annoyed. Muttering expletives under his breath, he turned back around to his mussed bed and the prospect of returning to his interrupted sleep.
Maybe he'd get to continue whatever that lost dream had been. Or maybe he'd get one of those especially nice dreams, involving this same bed, himself, and the Vulcan that had just left.
If only he could be so lucky.
*---*---*
With twinkling brown eyes and a dainty hand covering her mouth, Uhura shook her head as she watched Spock's straight shoulders walk away.
*---*---*
"Dr. McCoy, I request that you accurately identify the giver of this item."
Eyes tired and muscles protesting yet another interruption in his rest, Leonard snapped his fingers and pointed down the hallway. "Scotty! It must have been Scotty!"
And off Spock went, leaving Leonard to groan and shuffle across the floor to flop once more into bed.
If he was lucky, he'd get a twenty minute nap before Spock was back.
*---*---*
Loud laughter followed Spock out of Engineering. If Spock walked a bit faster, he easily excused the lapse as an attempt to make up for lost time.
*---*---*
There was the swish of a door, and a haggard expression met a determined one.
"Dr. McCoy, I -"
"Try Rand," was the sharp reply before the door swept shut in Spock's face.
*---*---*
"I'm flattered you think it could be me, but I'm afraid you're wrong."
Spock mentally sighed as he made his excuses to the young Yeoman. Once outside the shutting door, he checked his internal clock.
He had been so focused on discovering the identity of his gifter that he did not have much time left before the beginning of his next shift on the bridge. Turning, Spock hurried his walk down the corridors to his quarters, where he refreshed himself and donned a clean uniform.
Hesitating at his cabin's door, eyeing the shiny blue package on the entry table, he mentally debated taking the gift with him. Finally deciding it to be more improper to leave the present in his quarters – a sure sign of acceptance – Spock scooped it up and was on his way to the turbolift.
Stepping out onto the bridge, Spock gave a nod to the curious Lieutenant that passed him going into the lift. Walking the arc to the science station, he ignored the rest of the curious looks as he took his post, dropping the package with the now expected crinkling onto the console, safely away from any dials and buttons.
He felt the Captain's presence behind him before the cool hand came to rest on his shoulder. "I'd heard the rumors, but I honestly hadn't thought they were true! A secret admirer, Mr. Spock?"
"Merely a misunderstanding I wish to rectify, Captain," Spock replied, bending to adjust the focus on the scanner. Jim's hand slipped away.
The sound of crinkling paper made him look up. Jim had the package in his hands, and was shaking it lightly by his ear. "Huh. It's too light and squishy to be anything mechanical. Doesn't rattle, either, so it can't be anything with loose parts..."
Ignoring the irrational impulse to grab the gift away, Spock shifted his stance until he was standing tall, hands clasped behind his back. "As you show no previous knowledge as to the package's contents, I can therefore conclude that it was not sent by you, correct?"
"True enough," Jim replied with a smile, putting the now crease-mangled package back down. "You know, if you opened it you might figure out who gave it to you."
Spock raised an eyebrow, considering. "An interesting suggestion. As I cannot seem to rely on the good Doctor's memory in this case, I may have to resort to such measures."
He watched, curious, as Jim blinked and rocked back on his heels as if struck. "Huh."
"Captain?"
"I think the rumors missed something. What does Bones have to do with this?"
"The Doctor was the one tasked by my admirer to deliver the package to me."
Jim's hand was a bit too slow to cover the smile that this fact brought about. "Mr. Spock, I do believe you've been snookered."
Blinking at the unfamiliar word, Spock raised an eyebrow in query.
"I mean," Jim began, taking Spock's expression in stride, "I think Bones got you."
Affronted at the insinuation, Spock frowned. "A joke?"
"Could be. Could be an honest gift. You'll have to figure that out yourself."
*---*---*
Leonard was in a foul mood when Spock cornered him in his office after shift-change. He hadn't slept well the night before, being constantly interrupted as he was by the pointy-eared bastard. The fact that Spock still hadn't opened his gift just pissed him off more. "What do you want now? And if you ask one more time for me to remember who the hell gave me that damned thing, I swear I'm going to sedate you," he threatened, picking up a random hypo to prove his willingness to carry out that threat.
"There is no need to inquire after that information," Spock replied placidly while still blocking the door.
Startled, but with a sinking feeling in his gut, Leonard watched Spock closely, trying to pick up on the more subtle clues the Vulcan tended to give as to his emotional state. "Really now? Rand 'fessed up, did she?"
"She did not," Spock replied. "As you well know." Damn if that slightly disappointed cast to Spock's features didn't make him feel like a school boy being chastised. "I now wish to inquire about your intentions in giving me this 'token'."
His stubbornness demanded that he deny the accusation, but he was tired and cranky, and did not need another night like the last one. Sitting down heavily in his chair, he placed the hypo aside. "Jim told me about your last trip through the Guardian of Forever, and it reminded me of that conversation we had after I met your mom, and... Fuck, I don't know what I was thinking. Just open the damn thing or give it back, Spock," he demanded, holding a hand out in expectation.
There was a pause as he waited with bated breath, fully expecting Spock to hand the wrapped package over. Therefore, he was surprised when instead of hearing the crinkle of crumpling paper he heard the sharp scratch-like sound that was paper tearing.
There was another pause, and Leonard gave in to the urge to squirm in his seat as he watched Spock carefully pull the fanged teddy bear out of the wrapping paper.
"Doctor, this is not a sehlat," Spock deadpanned, looking up at him.
He let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair. He should have known better than to expect an emotional display by now. "Yeah, well, they don’t exactly sell stuffed sehlats in the market place," Leonard said gruffly, grabbing a pad for no other reason than to look busy.
"Perhaps they do not, in the ones you frequent. I do not, however, understand why you felt the need to modify a teddy bear instead."
'Because nobody should feel guilty about being the cause of their pet's death,' he wouldn't say.
"I just felt like it. Are we done now?"
Spock looked thoughtful as he nodded, discarding the shiny blue paper in the wastebasket next to the door. "I believe so," he commented, before turning around and leaving.
Suppressing a sigh of both relief and disappointment, Leonard folded his arms to pillow his head on his desk, and let himself have a moment.
*---*---*
Bone tired after a series of emergency surgeries to remove metal shards from an engineering team, Leonard closed his eyes, leaned against the door to his cabin with a sigh, and fumbled one handed at the door release.
Finally smacking the button, he caught himself from tumbling to the deck by tripping his way inside. Moving the few feet to the foot of his bed, he grabbed at the bottom of his shirts and pulled them over his head with a groan for his protesting muscles. Dropping the sweat soiled shirts to the floor he let himself teeter face-first onto the bed.
He grunted when an unexpected lump caught him in the stomach. Rolling to his side, he opened his eyes to inspect the anomaly in his bed.
Finding the fanged stuffed teddy bear that he'd gifted Spock about a month back, Leonard was confused as he picked up the accompanying short note.
I leave I-Chaya in your care while I'm away.
--Spock
Smiling wryly, he pulled the teddy bear up to eye level. "I-Chaya, huh? Well, don't you got a legacy to live up to."
If the bear's eyes seemed to twinkle just that little bit more, it was easily dismissed by the room's dim lighting.
--Fin.
P.S.: And now, the silly Macro that inspired all of that sweetness, incase you managed to miss it in the threads:
