Waiting for Mrs. Right

The Christmas party was only starting, so the recreation room was still quite empty when Spock came in with Kirk. After the official round of greetings that he had to undertake in his position as First Officer, Spock, as usual, kept in the background. In fact, he even pulled out a padd from nowhere and started to review some notes.

Near the bar, McCoy frowned as he noticed the scene. Probably Spock was estimating some efficiency ratings for the next day. Well, they will be low, as the doctor could tell from the amount of "house brand" that was being consumed tonight. In fact, he wondered what was keeping Spock here at all. Ordinarily the Vulcan would already be gone by now, using Kirk's absence from the bridge as excuse to go there himself and keep things under control.

But tonight, something was different. Spock lingered around the room for a moment, then sat down…near the main door? McCoy rubbed his chin. There was something weird going on - it almost seemed as if Spock was waiting for someone special. But no, that couldn't be - could it? Above the door there was the mistletoe branch which the crew used as an excuse to exchange a lot of serious and not so serious kisses…but would Spock…?

Curious, McCoy took his drink and settled himself into a quiet corner that nonetheless gave a relatively free view of Spock, the door, and the mistletoe. It was about time to find out who Spock had the hots for. Ever since that Pon Farr, the Vulcan wasn't quite the same asexual being as before. And McCoy doubted that Spock could just return to his previous completely innocent and ignorant state, even if he wanted to. The Enterprise was full of interesting people; it was hard not to get attracted to someone on the long journeys.

Uhura entered, and McCoy held his breath - but no, Spock didn't move a muscle. A pity, McCoy sighed and sipped his drink. He'd always thought they had nice chemistry together, and they both shared that love for music. And he was quite sure that he had seen her dropping a glance at Spock's very private parts once in a while. Obviously the communication officer had read *some* of the more interesting medical information he had requested from the Vulcan Science Academy in the last few months.

The door opened to reveal another regular bridge member - but McCoy instantly shook his head. Rand was cute, but somehow he knew that wasn't it. He had seen Spock be almost bitchy with her more than once. She'd be better off with Sulu, who quickly kissed her under the mistletoe before they went arm in arm to the bar. The two were definitely close to each other. He made a mental note to ask Chapel for the latest information tomorrow.

Speaking of Chapel - there she came, M'Benga in her wake. No doubt that she'd kiss Spock anytime - but the Vulcan didn't even look at her. Instead she had to content herself with M'Benga, who probably had timed his arrival to arrange exactly that. McCoy knew his colleague would love to get to know her better, but it obviously took time for her to get over her crush. Perhaps M'Benga would have a better chance if he put on pointy ears.

Next was Lieutenant Polaski, who was one of the shooting stars in engineering. Scotty was full of praise for her, and she'd been involved in some research with him and Spock for weeks. McCoy knew for sure that she had fallen a little bit in love with the Vulcan during that time. But it seemed to be one-sided, and so she walked through the doors and into the arms of another engineer, whose name McCoy couldn't remember.

There were others coming and going, intelligent, good-looking women from all departments, but they all seemed to leave Spock cold. Even the young Deltan - at whom everyone else stared - didn't make the Vulcan look up.

"Hey Bones - what're you doing here, all alone in a corner?" With a thud, a slightly inebriated Jim Kirk dropped into the chair at McCoy's right.

The doctor glanced at him. Maybe…maybe…? "I'm carrying out an experiment, Jim. And I need your help."

"Fine," Kirk said with a shrug. "What do you want me to do?"

"Leave the rec room through that door" - McCoy pointed at the one in question - "and come in again."

"That's all?" Kirk asked in slight confusion.

"That's all."

The captain shrugged again and stood up, leaving his glass on the table when he walked over to the door. It opened and then closed behind him.

McCoy stared at Spock's back, holding his breath again. Now he'd learn if it was -

The door whooshed open, and with light steps Kirk came back. For a fraction of a second he lingered under the mistletoe, shedding a brilliant smile into the room, but - nothing happened. Spock didn't stand up and walk over to Kirk. In fact, Spock once again didn't move one millimeter from his seat. Kirk waved to McCoy, but was pulled away by a cute ensign from the history department who grasped her chance of a lifetime to kiss the captain. Well, all the better for him.

McCoy leaned back in his chair, stunned. Everyone who had come to his mind as possible love interest for that green-blooded devil had gone through that damn door, and Spock had ignored them all. Obviously McCoy's psychological insights had once again failed to explain Spock's motives. He'd never, ever understand the Vulcan.

Anyway, he was giving up for tonight. With a weird mixture of relief and confusion, which he wasn't inclined to analyze right now, he went to the bar to return his and Kirk's glasses to the bartender. Passing Spock on his way to the main door, he considered speaking to him for a second, but then he resisted the impulse. He didn't feel like deba -

"Doctor!" someone said behind his back, and he rotated around.

"What's up, Mr. Spock?" McCoy asked in surprise, as he saw the Vulcan walking up to him.

Without a word of explanation, Spock leaned forward and kissed him.

McCoy gasped, when he could do so again. "Spock! Are you ill?"

"I am perfectly healthy, as you well know," the Vulcan replied.

"I don't believe that." McCoy shook his head. "I mean…you're sitting at that damn table for two hours and then you get up for me? There must be something wrong with your brain!"

"In fact, my wait time was 1.4 times shorter than I had estimated. But I admit to curiosity - what kept you in that corner?"

"What kept me?! You kept me, because I for once wanted to know who you were waiting for!" McCoy glared at him, feeling much more comfortable with yelling at Spock than thinking about that much too exciting kiss. "Why didn't you just walk over to me and *ask*?"

"Actually, it was my mother who suggested a more…creative approach to humans in whom I might be interested," Spock replied, and there was a tinge of darker green on his cheeks.

McCoy grinned wryly. "I doubt she was thinking of me and mistletoe when she said that."

"I doubt that too," Spock admitted. After an awkward moment of silence he added, "I apologize if -"

"No -" McCoy raised his hand "- no need to apologize. It's a nice idea, and not completely…unwelcome. But can I think it over a bit? You've really surprised the hell out of me, Spock."

"Of course." Spock tilted his head. "I will return to the bridge for now. Enjoy the party, Doctor." With smooth steps, the Vulcan left the rec room.

McCoy shook his head severely. What the heck -

"Bones?"

He startled and turned his head to meet Kirk's eyes. "Jim! Where did you leave little ensign Dollface?"

"When she started to talk about the Russian Revolution, I introduced her to Chekov," Kirk replied. "Say - did I see that right that Spock *kissed* you??"

McCoy stared at him. "Spock kissing me? Why should he?"

"I've no idea," Kirk said, and shook his head. "Yeah, really weird…I mean, it can't possibly be."

"No," McCoy agreed wholeheartedly, already wondering if his own slightly inebriated mind had invented the encounter with the Vulcan.

Kirk's confused gaze cleared. "Sorry, Bones. Well, it seems Scott's stuff is getting stronger as well as better every year. Let's get back to the party and have another drink."

Knowing that the matter between Spock and him wouldn't be solved tonight anyway, McCoy joined Kirk and the group at the bar until the wee morning hours. And if he was a bit absent-minded sometimes, nobody took it personally...

***