It had just been a stupid accident. Falling down a cliff when it was collapsing certainty wasnt how McCoy wanted to christen his first time in sickbay on the Enterprise, as a patient. Especially not having to suffer the indignity of having DeSalle land on him, after hitting the ground. The sharp rocks of the ground did nothing to help the situation, but it could have been worse. The rain could have been acidic. Had the Universe any respect for him, it never would have happened. But alas, the Universe wasnt going to help him out. When had it? If only he and DeSalle had been ten yards away, nothing wouldve happened. But it did, and they were both stuck in sickbay until MBenga said they could leave.

 DeSalle was asleep and had been thinking about his luck. He only had some relatively minor injuries, while McCoy had borne the brunt of the pain. It was only logical; after all, he had had a soft landing. He awoke wondering about whether or not he should bother asking MBenga for assistance. He knew MBenga could be a real jerk when he wanted to, and often made the sadistic exploits of the orderlies and the amorous exploits of the nurses look like children's shenanigans and that he did enjoy being in charge of sickbay, just not enough to try and kill McCoy.

Yes, McCoy's life was safe, for now. But who knew when MBenga would get the much-needed burst of confidence that would enable him to kill the Doctor? Nurse Diesel had at least taken a stab at the doctor, so many months ago. Sure, when security found her, McCoy was holding an empty hypospray and she was on the floor drooling. She was permanently sent to live in an insane asylum, but she had at least tried.

He looked up and saw Spock coming into sickbay. He immediately pretended to be asleep. He had seen Spock in action on missions; you dont mess with him. And he had seen him talk with Doctor McCoy. Well, talk didnt exactly describe it. Fight is a better word. The two were always fighting. He had yet to see them be civil towards one another. *So,* he wondered, *why is he here?*

      Spock walked into sickbay, and looked swiftly around. MBenga was nowhere to be seen and both men appeared to be asleep. Spock sighed; he knew that this meant that he would have to wait until McCoy awoke. *At least,* he thought, *DeSalle is asleep.* Spock pulled up a chair near McCoy's bedside. He sat down next to McCoy and just waited and watched.

Approximately forty-six minutes later, McCoy regained consciousness. McCoy knew somebody was next to him; he could feel the heat radiating toward him, as well as hear the gentle pattern of the breath of another being. McCoy opened his eyes and was surprised so see Spock sitting next to him. "Spock, what are you doing here?" The medications were still affecting his brain, and everything was fuzzy.

Spock raised his eyebrow as he took McCoys hand in his and simply held it. "Why do you think I am here Doctor?"

"I really have no idea. Doesn't the Captain have something he wants you to do? Some planet to destroy?"

"No, the Captain is with Marlena at the moment. He will be there for awhile." McCoy groaned; everybody knew about Kirks insatiable need for physical gratification, and how Marlena never seemed to get tired of it; the two were well matched in that respect.

"You didn't answer my question Spock."

Spock leaned over and, using his other had, gently caressed McCoys cheek, in slow, steady strokes. The tenderness of the touch was quite a contrast to his usual manner, and McCoy sank into them, savoring the feeling. "Doctor, that is a very simple question with a very obvious answer. Why do you waste your breath on it?"

      McCoy was very confused and just looked up, a bit helplessly, at Spock. Spock met his gaze and suddenly leaned down and tenderly kissed McCoy, full on the lips. The beard tickled against McCoys skin, all the more sensitive from the fall. Warmth from the contact spread throughout his body, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. The sensations were causing his blood pressure to rise, and the heart monitor bleeped in warning.

      Pulling back, Spock said with amusement in his voice "My kafeh, you do not really believe that I would want to see you seriously injured, do you?" His hand still gripping McCoys, squeezing with only a small portion of the strength he possessed, he continued, "I do not wish to lose you. You do not know how concerned I was when I heard of your accident. The prime duty of an Alha is to protect his kafeh. If an Alha cannot do that, then the relationship is in jeopardy."

      "Spock, youre there for me when I need you. Who kept Nurse Diesel from stabbing me? You protect me. You have ever since I got here. Youre a good Master."

      Spock ran his fingers trough McCoys thick brown hair, once, before rising to leave. He knew that McCoy meant every word he had said, and that McCoy had understood what he had been trying to say. Glad that McCoy would be well, he said, "Get some rest my kafeh; you will need your strength, later on." He allowed his lips to curve into a smile as the implication sank into McCoys mind. McCoy gulped in response, his imagination going wild. "Sleep well."

      "Goodnight Spock." McCoy closed his eyes and within moments, a faint snore could be heard. Spock, satisfied with McCoys condition, left sickbay to go meditate.

      Laying there in the dark, DeSalle thought about the scene that had just unfolded. *Apparently, nothing is, as it seems on the I.S.S. Enterprise. * He wondered about what else was happening on the ship, and if these two didn't really hate each other, what other alliances had been formed.

                       Finit