Fanfic Short Stories

Star Trek TOS: Foibles

Story description: Spock, McCoy, and Kirk discuss logic over dinner.

"I'm a doctor, not a horticulturist."

Foibles

After Spock joined the Captain and Doctor McCoy at a table in the mess hall, Jim described his plans for negotiating with the leaders of a world they would visit the next day. It was, in Spock's view, an emotional approach. However, the people on Genua V were known to respond well to emotional appeals. "Very logical, Captain."

Jim and McCoy exchanged glances across the table.

Spock raised a brow. "Do you disagree?"

Jim grinned. "No, Spock. It's just that right before you sat down, Bones pointed out that you've been giving that compliment more frequently than you used to."

McCoy nodded. "Do you think your logical nature is rubbing off on us? Or have you just lowered your standards when it comes to humans?"

"As you are well aware that logic is not learned through osmosis, Doctor, I will address your second question. It is not that I have lowered my standards. Rather, as a member of this crew, I have learned that humans are more logical than I first realized. The ways that you express your findings and decisions are so mired in emotion and colloquialism that it requires an astute observer to recognize the underlying thought processes."

McCoy set down the sandwich he'd been eating. "That sounds like an insult."

"Not at all, Doctor. Simply an acknowledgment of our differing styles of communication. For instance, you are in a role that requires scientific knowledge and deduction. Your diagnoses are based on logic. However, your method of delivering information originally led me to believe that you were acting entirely emotionally."

"You do have a tendency to yell at your patients." Jim lifted his cup of coffee as if toasting McCoy, and then drank.

"That's been your experience because you don't follow your doctor's orders," McCoy objected. "Neither of you do. Trying to heal either one of you is enough to drive a man to drink."

Spock placed his elbows on the table, hands pressed together in front of his face. "What I now understand is that a comment such as you made yesterday, 'I'm a doctor, not a horticulturist,' is..." Spock paused as Jim sputtered with laughter.

"Bones, why did you say that?"

"The people on that planet dig themselves a hole in the ground when they're injured. They're a plant-animal hybrid, as far as I could tell. There were healing properties in the soil, but the ground in that area had become contaminated and it wasn't working anymore. They needed to restore the nutrients that had been lost."

"Not exactly your area of specialization," Jim concluded.

"Precisely," Spock said. "It was a logical point, expressed in terms that cloaked the reasoning behind it."

"Fortunately you've gotten to know us," Jim added. "You can interpret our emotional outbursts and appreciate how logical we are."

Now McCoy laughed. "That's overstating it. Spock's a Starfleet officer, not a universal translator."

"Or a science officer, not a logic extrapolator," Jim said. "What do you say, Spock? Are we getting it right?"

"I would say that I am a friend, but not unaware of your foibles."

"That does it." McCoy stood. "If we're getting into foibles, I need bourbon."

"No, let me get it." Jim patted McCoy on the back. "After all, you're a doctor, not a bartender."