I do not own them or any money, so please don't sue me.

Please excuse any mistakes in language, grammer and story ; ) English is not my mother tongue (This would be german), please don't hate me.

With a deep sigh Dr. McCoy saved the note, he'd made about the last patient of the day. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

As a doctor on a ship as big as this one, it wasn't only his responsibility to make sure the crew was in perfect health. Quite often, he had to give recommendation in personal affairs. Adding to this, the doctor had to advice the captain and the officers, as well.

He was very glad, that today's work was done, because in the evening there was going to bee a banquet and this day didn't went that well. There had been an incident at the cargo deck II, including several wounded Crew members and a very pissed … well… something. Nobody had been in mortal danger, but he had to do his share of putting stitches in, anyway. His head ached from barking commands at his staff.

Bones was still trying to gain some distance, when the computer announced with a sound, that somebody was standing in front of the door to the sickbay.

The doctor groaned. He was already done for, anyway.

He decided to listen and then to decide, how urgent matters were. So he opened his eyes, sat up and called: "Come on in!"

When the doors opened and he saw, who is visitor was, he grimaced. But this was only show. Truth to be told, he was quite glad to see the man.

"Spock", he greeted him, "what are you doing here, in these holly halls?" He was really interested in the answer, because he knew for a fact, that the sickbay was the vulcans least favourite place on the ship.

Spock came in, but stopped uncertainly, halfway to the desk. He locked almost nervous, but this was a thought, the doctor squashed immediately. After all, there was a model Vulcan standing in front of him. At least if logic and control off feelings were concerned. Genetically he was half human. The doctor saw it as his duty to remind his friend of this at every possibility. If only to see the annoyance on Spocks face.

Anyway, uncertainty was unusual enough. McCoy was correspondingly curious. And hell, a bit worried.

"Doctor McCoy, you give advice in personal matters, as well." Not a question, but a statement. "I need such advice."

Bones nodded in wonder and indicated Spock to sit down. His headache and tiredness were forgotten. There was a mate of his, obviously in need of help. Even if he would have wanted to leave, he wouldn't have been able to do so. His medical instincts and his friendship wouldn't have allowed it.

So he asked: "You want to talk to a doctor or to a friend?"

"Obviously to a doctor, as I'm here in your office." replied Spock dryly.

"Fine, Mr. Spock, then get going." sighed the doctor.

Spock raised an eyebrow: "You want me to leave? I was under the impression you invited me to sit down less than a minute ago."

"I was merely suggesting that it would be advisable to start telling the tale." McCoy said in an exaggerated patient voice.

"The tale, doctor?"

"Just tell me, what is going on in between these pointed ears of yours, that brought you here."

"Very well. Would you mind, dimming the lights? I find it easier to concentrate in dark surroundings." asked Spock.

"Whatever.", admitted McCoy waving his hand vaguely and Spock told the Computer to reduce the intensity of light in the room.

The vulcan lowered his gaze and locked fixedly on the floor. Then he folded his hand, just leaving his index fingers to lean against each other. He took some deep breaths and then closed his eyes.

The doctor watched this silently. He knew that there was a time to tease, and that it was not now. When his friend started to concentrate, he started to be a doctor threatening a patient. He fished for an empty notepad in the mess on his desk. The days work wasn't responsible for the chaos that spread on his whole office. This was just the way he liked it. Eventually he fund a pad and settled back in his chair. Knowing Spock, this conversation could take some time.

Bones sat in the semi-darkness of his office, watching his co-worker drawing deep and regular breaths and wondering, what this could be about. Spock has never before asked his advice in personal affairs and as far as he knew never asked anybody else's either.

Spock interrupted the doctors musing, when he began to talk with a tired voice: "For a few months now, it's getting harder and harder to control certain feelings. It's almost impossible for the last weeks."

This wasn't much, but it was enough to leave the doctor wide awake. Spock and admitting feelings? This was much more than just unusual. He waited for more and when nothing was offered he asked: "What kind of feelings are we talking about?" The vulcan seemed to have been awaiting this question, because his eyebrows barely twitched.

"It's about a crew member. I keep thinking of this certain co-worker at the most inappropriate times." Spock seemed to hesitate, but continued: "I noticed that I try to make this colleague as comfortable as possible in my presence. That is troubling as well as highly inappropriate. More important still: it's also highly illogical." He stopped talking and seemed to ponder a thought, not being aware of his surroundings and the dumb folded McCoy. This was lucky for the later, because he wouldn't have been able to talk, to save his life.

Bones sat in his office and listened to Spock, of all persons, getting into raptures. He just couldn't believe it. In a desperate attempt to get himself together and get trough this conversation somewhat dignified, he pulled up his still blank notepad and scribbled something without looking at it. The dammed green blooded goblin had is eyes closed, but he would hear the scratching of the pen.

In the same attempt of letting this appear normal, McCoy smirked: "Listen; normally I would try to make you see it yourself, but I'm tired and we both got a dinner to attend, so I'll speed things up a bit, all right?" Spock inclined his head to signal that he agreed. Bones braced himself for what he had to say: "Spock my friend, you are in love."

The vulcan just nodded: "That's what I expected." The doctor didn't know what he had expected, but certainly not this. Suddenly an idea occurred to him: "Spock, could it be PonFa?" If it was just this, then… But his hopes were already destroyed, by a shaking head. Spock offered no further explanations and Bones didn't push further.

"What should I do, doctor?" Bones knew that this was the question; his friend had come to ask.

Is story is to be continued. I know nothing went down by now, but I assure you, that this is going to change soon. Stay with me if you can stand it, OK?

Please review. It's logical to do so.