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He wasn't even supposed to be along on this away mission. How come he was then, and how did he wind up with Spock?
McCoy would've been happy to have asked anyone those questions, because he really would like to have an answer to them. But the only one around besides him was Spock and he acted as if he didn't even want to acknowledge McCoy's existence, let alone his purpose for being here.
The mission was all so hush-hush, but Jim Kirk had wanted McCoy to go along with Spock because he couldn't. Now, after watching Spock methodically and painstakingly going through document after document in this ancient library at this ancient university on this boring planet where everyone seemed ancient, McCoy was beginning to understand why he'd gotten to babysit Spock. Kirk had known ahead of time that it would be a dull, boring assignment and had shifted the responsibility of escorting Spock to McCoy. What McCoy didn't understand, either, was why Spock needed an escort. With that Vulcan Nerve Pinch and his superior strength, Spock could certainly take on almost anybody who would challenge him and win, easily. Especially on this ancient planet.
Spock seemed enthralled, though, as he leafed through document after document.
"Are you learning what you came here to find out?" McCoy finally asked because if he didn't he was going to go crazy from not hearing another human voice, even if it had to be his own.
"Dr. McCoy," Spock answered and did not bother to hide the exasperation that he was obviously feeling. "Please refrain from verbalizing, if you will please. You are interrupting my thought patterns."
"What are they like when I do that? You know, your thought patterns. Are they kinda like a television screen when the picture goes haywire? You know, all squiggly?" McCoy asked as he waved his fingers in the air to demonstrate an erratic television picture.
Spock looked stumped (which was humorous enough on its own), then his face cleared. "I have surmised that you have some sort of correlation in mind with your finger motions, or else you would not have used the term 'thought patterns' or compared them to poor television reception."
Spock was the perfect straight man. It was almost too easy.
"Why, I took it a step further than that even. It's 'cause you're so much like a machine. Don't you get it? Robotlike? Television? See the correlation now?"
Indeed, Spock did get it. And he looked hurt. Which surprised McCoy. And made McCoy feel bad, too. He meant nothing malicious with his teasing. Surely Spock understood that.
Didn't he?
"I'm sorry, Spock. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
"Then why did you say it?"
"You're right. I apologize for saying it. It was mean and petty of me."
"You should have stopped with the first part of your apology."
McCoy looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"You should not have said it. In fact, you should not have said anything." He busied himself with his papers again.
And that hurt McCoy. The difference between them was that Spock did not realize that he had hurt McCoy with his sharp words. And McCoy decided that Spock was going to understand for once just how much his shortness with people could hurt.
"And you shouldn't have said that to me," McCoy snapped.
Spock looked up with aggravation on his face. "Whatever are you prattling on about now, Doctor?"
"Oh, the fact that now you are being mean and petty."
Spock frowned. "I did not intend to be that way."
"Well, that's the way you sounded," McCoy stammered, suddenly off-balanced by Spock's meekness. McCoy could've handled his haughtiness and doggedness, but not his repentance.
"I am sorry. I am just so consumed by this project."
"I can see that. And maybe you shouldn't wrap all of your time up in it."
"The Captain needs this information."
"How about if I help you?"
"You? Help me?"
"I know it's quite a concept," McCoy chided, but softened the sting of his words with a gentle smile. "But if I help, then it'll get done faster. Then we can take a break and we can rest up so we can regenerate ourselves." He took a closer look at Spock's harried and tired face. "In fact, we're going to take the break first, then come back and work on your project." With that, he snatched the papers out of Spock's hands and set them aside.
"Wait! Those papers are quite important!"
"Now, I did not harm them in the least. I just set them over here. Where they will be when we return."
"But--" Spock protested.
But McCoy wasn't listening. "Now, come on," he insisted as he grabbed Spock's arm and hauled him to his feet.
"But I cannot leave now--"
"You can and you will," McCoy said in a firmer voice. "Jim might ask why you took a break, but I don't think he will. He knows that everyone needs some time to relax. (And McCoy was beginning to understand that Kirk figured he could bully Spock.) But if he does ask, we'll just say it was doctor's orders. Because that's what this is: Doctor's orders," he said in a gentler voice. "Your doctor. Saying you need a break. Now. With him."
"Doing what?" Spock asked as he was propelled toward the door.
"Playing. Goofing off. Being a kid again. Playing hooky. And if all else fails, say that you had to make sure that I was okay because I was needing diversion. I was getting bored out of my mind and needed a change of scenery. But you didn't want to leave me to my own devices, so you thought that it was prudent to monitor me."
A sparkle had come into Spock's eyes. "Doctor, you are going to be leading me astray and teaching me bad habits."
"I certainly hope so. But Jim will understand. Who do you think I learned them from?"