Title: Is It Just Me...?

Rating: *snickers*

Summary: The crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise is starting to wonder about the relationship between Dr. Carol Marcus and their Chief Medical Officer.

Disclaimer: Only in my dreams.

Dedication: To sxevlbtch, who gave me the idea.

Uhura

Uhura and McCoy had a mutual understanding, a silent camaraderie, during those first few months aboard the Enterprise. He had observed her behavior during those tense moments as Spock and Kirk set out to rescue Pike and stop Nero, and had come to the logical conclusion. She knew that he knew, and he knew that she knew that he knew, but he never said anything. Not once did he ever speak of or explicitly acknowledge her relationship with Spock. Every so often, however, when the First Officer had been dragged along by the Captain on an especially dangerous planetside mission, McCoy would make sure she got to stand in the beaming dock with Scotty. When Spock was, on occasion, injured, McCoy allowed her into the medbay for a few minutes alone before letting Kirk barrel through. And when it came time for her annual physical, McCoy gave her STD and birth control injections specifically synthesized for Vulcan mates. Personally she didn't think she needed the STD injection but it was 'just in case'.

When her relationship with Spock finally did become public, it was just before Khan swept onto the scene, and it was Kirk's fault, not McCoy's. Although in defense of the captain it had been an accident.

Still, Uhura felt indebted to McCoy. She was intensely private about her personal life, and she greatly appreciated the respect and consideration he'd shown her. Furthermore, she considered McCoy a friend, and the only person besides herself that she could count on to handle Spock and Kirk when they were going at it.

So when she began to notice… well, something, between McCoy and Dr. Marcus, she kept it to herself.

Admittedly, her first thought was that it was just her imagination. Sure, Carol and Leonard did seem to lock eyes a lot, staring into each other with a soul-searching intensity, but they probably stared at everybody for just as long. And McCoy did have a habit of lingering over Carol's form when she wasn't looking at him but that easily could have been a simple male instinct. Carol was very attractive, after all. And yes, they did seem to touch each other a lot – hands brushing when they passed equipment, leaning into each other's space as they talked in low voices, bumping shoulders as they walked, lightly trailing fingers on each other's arms as they passed by – but Carol Marcus was definitely a touchy-feely type, so it could have just been that. The woman gave random hugs, for crying out loud.

(Uhura might have told her to do it to Spock a lot, just to see the look of shock and discomfort on her boyfriend's face.)

But then Carol was injured on a mission with Kirk when Spock had been forced to stay on-board to monitor some complicated scientific anomaly that Uhura hadn't bothered remembering the name of, and her doubts were banished.

Kirk had hovered about Carol's bedside, as he did with all injured crewmembers, before McCoy had ordered him to go and be a captain, dammit, and let the nurses do their jobs. Uhura had just come off shift and decided to stop by and see her friend, make sure the girl was holding up okay.

As she entered the silent sickbay, she was surprised to find it empty except for Leonard and Carol. The engineering expert was lying down but propped up on pillows, her abdomen and left shoulder wrapped in bandages. She had her hand on the back of Leonard's neck, her thumb stroking the skin. Their foreheads were resting together and he had his hand on her cheek, cupping her face gently.

Uhura couldn't pick out exact words, but she could hear the low mumble of conversation. The first rule of communications is to pick out the emotions, and not the words, of the speaker. Even if you don't understand exactly what's being said, if you can figure out the speaker's state of mind, you're halfway there. Leonard's tone was deep and chastising, an undercurrent of worry gurgling underneath. Carol's voice was reassuring and repentant.

They weren't kissing or doing anything physical – just touching each other and talking – but Uhura felt as if she'd walked in on something more intimate than sex. She backed out quietly, her last glimpse of Leonard pressing a kiss to Carol's forehead before the doors slid shut.

McCoy's glance at her as he encountered her at dinner told her that he knew she'd been there, but she simply smiled at him. Her secret had been safe with him, and it was time to return the favor. McCoy's lips twitched upwards.

He also, she noted, took his dinner to go and headed back towards the medbay.

Spock

While Spock was not well versed in emotion, he was highly observant. It had taken him longer than he had anticipated to realize the significance of what he was seeing, but once the idea was lodged in his head it would not go away.

Was it possible that Dr. McCoy and Dr. Marcus were dating?

Certainly, his second-in-command seemed to have a soft spot for the CMO, expressing admiration for his medical skills. Dr. McCoy, for his part, appeared to relax more often when in Dr. Marcus's presence. They bantered quite often, but then so did Marcus and Kirk, Spock himself and Kirk, and McCoy with everyone at some point, and none of them were in romantic relationships with each other.

McCoy did, however, seem especially on-edge when Dr. Marcus joined them for planetside missions or was experimenting with alien weaponry. And Dr. Marcus was always the one to babysit seven-year-old Joanna McCoy when she was staying on the Enterprise.

And while he was no expert on human females in general, he was almost certain that Dr. Marcus was in a satisfactory sexual relationship with someone, going by the positive attitude and physical glow she exhibited. It was quite similar to the one Nyota had started showing after they had consummated their relationship.

He certainly wasn't imagining that Dr. McCoy was more cheerful lately – even the captain had noticed it. And the two doctors did eat meals together quite often. But then, their shifts matched up almost perfectly, so it might have merely been a matter of convenience.

Uncertain of the data and concerned that he might be reading it wrong, Spock felt that he had no recourse but to turn to Nyota. His mate had an uncanny knack for relationships and would be able to tell him if he was interpreting things properly.

Of course, one of the double-edged swords of Vulcan marriage – that is, being bonded to one another – is the constant state of mind-meld. Nyota knew what he was going to ask her before he even spoke.

"Nyota, may I inquire–"

"Oh, no you don't." His mate interrupted him. "If I tell you anything you'll tell Jim. I know how this works."

Spock's tone, while only altering slightly, conveyed his miffed feelings to the trained Communication Officer's ears. "I assure you that I do not intend to reveal the state of anyone's personal affairs to the Captain." He assured her.

Nyota's gaze did not waver. "You're going to need to do better than that, stud." She informed him.

Spock projected a few images across their mind-meld. Images of a rather… intimate nature, that could be done during their designated sleep period after shift.

Nyota shifted in her seat.

"Okay, fine. Yes, they're dating, no, I'm not sure for how long, and as far as I know it's been a mutually satisfactory relationship both physically and emotionally. And you better deliver on all three of those images."

He did.

Sulu

Let's set aside the whole homophobic thing for a moment.

Yes, the fact that gays are basically going through what African Americans went through on the civil rights front is depressing, and he's not going to lie – it gets to him sometimes – but there are benefits to this.

See, you get a crush on a guy, right? But aside from the fact that you don't know if he likes you back, you also don't know if he's going to punch you in the face and turn your entire school against you for trying anything. Result? You get really good at reading people.

The problem is that people are really confusing.

Sulu frowned as he watched Carol talking with McCoy. He'd grown fond of Carol – hell, everyone onboard had – so maybe he was exaggerating things in his head. But McCoy didn't really have to stand that close to her, did he? They could talk about whatever they were looking at on the PADD without their sides brushing, right?

And did they have to whisper, or was that just because their mouths were roughly five inches apart by this point?

Sulu tried to recall all of the CMO and weapon expert's previous interactions. There was that one time she'd gotten injured and McCoy had been about ready to kill Kirk, giving the captain a ten-minute dressing down in front of everyone on the bridge. And then there was the time that McCoy had gotten, of all things, the Common Earth Flu, forcing him to stay in bed for a week and Carol had carried every single one of his meals to him, staying in his room for hours.

Wait a minute – didn't they spend their last shore leave together? Sulu tried to remember. Spock had gone to get permission from Uhura's parents to marry her (human marry, not Vulcan marry, which the two had failed to report to said parents they'd already been in for a good six months), Scotty had gone shopping for some parts the Enterprise 'needed' (a.k.a. wasn't supposed to have but he was doing it anyway), Chekov had gone to see his parents…

Sulu mentally snapped his fingers. McCoy had gotten to visit Joanna! He remembered now. And while he didn't know if Carol had spent the entire time with them there was now a certificate, done in crayon, certifying McCoy as a Torpedo Surgeon, authorized by Joanna McCoy and one Dr. Carol Marcus, hanging over the CMO's desk in his office.

Okay, they were laughing now. Carol was throwing her head back, her smile wide and toothy, while McCoy watched her, chuckling. The look on the CMO's face… that had to be something, didn't it? People don't look at other people like that, like they're a dazzling star in a universe of darkness, unless there's something there.

Uhura came over to lean against the console, folding her arms. Hmm… if anyone knew what was up, it would be her.

"Is it just me, or…?" He whispered out of the side of his mouth to Uhura.

The CO's smile said it all.

"Damn." Sulu said appreciatively. He wasn't sure who he admired more – Dr. McCoy for managing to get with the toughest woman on the ship besides Uhura, or Dr. Marcus for bagging Dr. McCoy.

What? He wasn't Sulu's type but it didn't mean the pilot was blind.

Scotty

He heard them before he saw them.

A gale of laughter rang out through the supposedly abandoned sublevel, echoing down the hall. Scotty frowned. Nobody came down here except for himself and people who didn't want to deal with prying eyes.

If the captain was down here with one of the nurses again, Scotty promised himself, he would have no choice but to–

He stopped. Stared. Kept staring. And stared some more.

Dr. Carol Marcus, wearing nothing but a lacy blue thong, was trying to escape the grasp of Dr. Leonard McCoy, wearing nothing but his boxers, as he tickled her ribcage. He had her by one of her wrists, and Scotty had to admit he'd never seen the cantankerous doctor so carefree.

"Len… I have to… stop stop stop I'm going to be late!" Marcus shrieked, her words interrupted by uncontrollable giggles.

"You're always early." McCoy countered, pulling her in closer.

"You're impossible." Marcus replied, kissing him.

McCoy wrapped his arms around her waist and it didn't look to Scotty like they were planning on coming up for air anytime soon. He noted the pile of clothes on the floor, along with two glasses, an empty bottle of something (scotch, maybe, or whiskey) and… he really didn't want to know what the silky-looking scarf was for.

When he turned his attention back to the two doctors, he saw that McCoy had backed Marcus against one of the massive hydraulics pipes. He was kissing her neck instead of her mouth now, and… well, Scotty hated to admit it, but the sounds Dr. Marcus was making did things to him.

Time to make his escape.

Safely back at his station, Scotty explained the situation to his assistant.

"Now tha's something you don't see every day." He told Keenser.

Keenser ignored him.

Nurse Chapel

Say what you will, but Christine Chapel knew romance. She'd been through the crushing mill of it, seen every aspect, and was quite happy to take a break from it, thank you.

Didn't mean she couldn't scheme about other people's love lives. Or that she didn't pay attention to the men around her.

Was it just her, or was there a disproportionate percentage of attractive male crewmembers of the Enterprise?

Basically, if you wanted relationship advice, you came to Nurse Chapel. Even she and Nyota had often chatted (okay, honestly, she had listened while Nyota ranted) about Spock. In fact, the only female onboard who never asked her for advice was Carol. Normally Christine would have let her friend keep her privacy but it had been months now. The woman needed to get laid (she was a nurse, she knew the health benefits).

On that particular morning – or rather what had been designated as morning time – Christine was running through the available crewmembers in her head as she did inventory for McCoy. Her boss had decided to start his shift an hour late this morning, for some reason. She wasn't going to question him; not when he gave her the run of the place in his absence.

Never let it be said that Dr. McCoy did not have a soft spot.

As for the available crewmembers…

Spock was out of the question. Aside from the fact that he was ridiculously in love with Uhura (or as ridiculous as it was possible for a Vulcan to get), he and Carol would never work out. They were both too scientifically minded, too focused, and in the exact same way. They wouldn't balance each other out.

Kirk? Well aside from the fact that the man still had commitment issues (although he was getting better, if the stories recently were true), Christine was pretty sure Carol would kill the man before a month was up. Carol was strong and determined, and with someone like Kirk goading her and being his cavalier self… Christine could certainly see that blowing up in their faces.

What about McCoy?

Sure, he was her boss, and she was never going to go there with the curmudgeon, but she could acknowledge that McCoy had a lot of great qualities. He had that southern charm (when he let it show) and was a bit old-fashioned in a good way. He was certainly dedicated, and supportive. For all of his complaining about her blowing up the ship, he was encouraging of Carol's work. Christine had come in many times to see Carol explaining something about protomatter that McCoy obviously didn't understand but nodded and listened to anyway.

He made her laugh, too. Carol was serious by nature, overcoming a lot of prejudice when she'd decided to join Starfleet, and her father's recent actions and death had only served to heighten that. But McCoy consistently made her laugh – ringing, silvery bells that pealed and echoed throughout the room.

Carol made McCoy less cranky, as well. He was always more cheerful on shift after spending some time with Carol. Well, maybe 'cheerful' wasn't the right word. More like slightly less irritable.

They'd balance each other out nicely, Christine decided. Seeing as they were already good friends, taking the step to romance wouldn't be overly difficult. They saw plenty of each other as it was, and…

As a matter of fact, they did spend a lot of time together, didn't they? They frequently ate meals together, although not breakfast since McCoy was coming into his shift later now…

Wait.

Wait one damn minute.

They weren't already… were they?

Christine compared McCoy's shift to Carol's in her head. Sure enough, they matched up, whereas originally there had been a pretty big time difference.

They interacted so well together, always talking in low voices unless one of them was laughing fit to kill, standing awfully close to each other and really, the only time they were apart was when one of them was looking for the other one.

Could she really have been so stupid as to not see it before now?

Just then, McCoy himself walked in, jotting something down on a PADD. "Morning, Chapel." He said with a– grin? Was that a grin?

"Good morning, Doctor." She responded. "How's Carol this morning?"

"She's great. Nearly made us late for sh-it." McCoy's original 'shift' changed into the expletive as he halted, realizing what he'd just said. He gave Chapel his patented stink eye. "How the hell did you find us out?"

Chapel shrugged. "I know romance." She replied.

McCoy's eye roll was one for the history books. "Just finish the inventory, Chapel." He instructed. "And for the love of God, don't tell Carol you know. Let her tell you, or it's my ass that gets raked over the coals."

"Yes, sir." She responded. Speaking of asses… McCoy's was mighty fine…

Well done, Carol. Christine made a note to congratulate her friend the next time they had lunch together.

Chekov

It happened, ironically, on the day McCoy had to send out the annual (and required) electronic safe-sex pamphlet.

Despite what everyone on the ship seemed to think, Pavel Andreievich Chekov was not entirely naïve, thank you very much. He had some experiences in his time.

And he doesn't care what you think – Russia has the best girls.

Anyway, while he understood that their concern came from a place of love and the fact that everyone, especially Sulu, saw Chekov as their little brother, it irritated the ensign that everyone immediately tried to talk to him about the pamphlet like he was twelve and this was his first birds-and-the-bees talk.

(He still doesn't get where the birds and the bees come into it.)

There was a point he was trying to make, here, and the point was that he'd been around the block a few times. He knew how this stuff worked. So when he shares just how unbelievably scarring this is, listeners will understand just how bad it was.

Now, there are upsides and downsides to being a teenage genius. One of the upsides was that he could help out in pretty much any department that was short a helping hand.

This was also one of the downsides.

Which is why Chekov was running into Dr. Marcus's lab to get some tools from her for Scotty, whom he was helping to adjust some things in the warp bay. The Head Engineer had gotten smarter and was no longer sharing his warp innovations with the brass, but he let Chekov and Gaila (which reminded him, did those two have something?), his protégées, assist him.

Chekov burst into Dr. Marcus's lab with his usual enthusiasm, ready to blast the scientist with his list of needed equipment, when he realized what he was seeing and skidded to a halt.

Dr. Marcus had her hands braced on the edge of what looked like a hollowed-out torpedo, her head bowed. She looked strangely… occupied, her brow furrowed and her face flushed. Her eyes widened as she saw the ensign.

"Chekov!" Her smile seemed stiff, somehow, her voice forcefully cheerful. "What… are you doing here?" Her words were alternately labored and running together.

"Hello, Dr. Marcus. I need some equipment for Mr. Scott." Chekov said. "I will need–"

"Of course." Dr. Marcus cut him off. "Anything you need will be over on that table there." She waved a hand in the general direction of the table before clamping it back down onto the torpedo-thing. "And I've told you; call me Carol."

"Certainly! Thank you, Carol!" Chekov beamed at her and scurried over to grab what he needed.

Dr. Marcus nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. She didn't even seem to be seeing what was in front of her. It was all very odd.

Chekov gathered the tools, wondering if the scientist was becoming ill and simply too proud to admit it (like the captain), when he spied something crumpled on the floor at his feet.

It was a dark blue Starfleet shirt.

In fact, it was the dark blue Starfleet shirt that belonged to Dr. McCoy.

Behind him, Dr. Marcus made an odd sound, something like a strangled hum and a sharp gasp.

Chekov froze but didn't turn around, his genius brain gathering the known facts and compiling them into one horrible, inescapable conclusion.

Dr. McCoy – cranky, snapping, just how old are you kid Chief Medical Officer McCoy, the stern father of the Enterprise crew – was going down on Dr. Carol Marcus.

What. The. Fuck.

"I think this is everything." Chekov said, hoping his voice wouldn't give away his realization. "Thank you, Carol."

"Any… anytime." She replied.

Chekov booked it out of there like there were Klingons on his tail, but he wasn't fast enough to escape hearing the sharp, ecstatic cry Dr. Marcus gave a moment later. That was definitely Dr. McCoy's name she was shouting.

"Excellent." Scotty said as he took the equipment from Chekov's arms. "Rather kind of Dr. Marcus to lend us these things all the time… laddie, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Chekov could only shake his head, words refusing to come to him. Gaila took one look at this face and burst into giggles.

"Scotty," She said, "I think the poor puppy's had a shock."

(Only Gaila was allowed to call him 'puppy', since she was practically his older sister. Well, his fun older sister anyway. Uhura was the stern one.)

But it was, yes, a shock. Make that a shock and a half. Let's just say, he couldn't look either doctor in the eye for the rest of the week.

Although a part of him really, really wanted to ask Dr. McCoy for tips because let's be honest here – Dr. Carol Marcus?

Kirk

Kirk was not to blame for this.

Normally, he was to blame. He can own up to that. He's a manly man who can admit his mistakes. But this time was not his fault.

Don't let Uhura tell you otherwise.

All he wanted to do was see his best friend. Was that too much to ask? He hadn't talked to Bones in what felt like ages, and his other best friend (and First Officer) was busy being a good boyfriend so it wasn't like he could go and play chess. Besides, Bones usually joined them for chess anyway, sitting there and making astute, sarcastic observations.

But apparently the universe felt like an exhausting and deadly planetside mission wasn't enough bad luck, and was going to throw yet another wrench at him.

Kirk bounded through the doors that separated the sickbay from the rest of the medbay, a grin on his face and a song in his heart.

Well, okay, not a song, but c'mon. He's trying to be poetic here.

So anyway, he bounded through the doors with a song in his heart and a hearty greeting on his lips, both of which promptly died the minute he saw what was going on in the room.

Bones and Carol were making out like there was no tomorrow. Bones' hands were on Carol's ass and they were making these whimpering groaning noises in their throats and holy shit. Bones and Carol? They were together?

And… and dear God they were trying to suck each other's brains out through their mouths.

Seriously where the hell had Bones learned to kiss like that? He'd never thought of maybe sharing those pointers?

At first Kirk thought it would be funny to just stand there and wait for them to become aware of his presence, but then Bones lifted Carol up onto one of the examination tables and her legs were wrapped around his waist now and holy shit they were really going to do it weren't they? In front of him. Right there. At that very moment.

This was not okay on so many fundamental levels.

"Bones?" Kirk snapped his fingers repeatedly. "Dr. Marcus?"

They broke apart with a (oh great he can't ever un-hear that) wet pop and turned towards him, Bones twisting a little because he had his back to Kirk.

"Captain." Carol said. "You have impeccable timing."

"Dammit Jim, can't you ever knock?" Bones demanded sharply.

Kirk blinked. Wasn't there supposed to be shock and horror and, oh maybe some apologizing going on? His best friend had been banging one of the hottest officers on the ship and he had failed to tell him! This violated at least three laws of the Bro Code, didn't it?

He didn't realize that he'd just been standing there gaping and glaring until Bones spoke again.

"Got something you want to share with the class, Jim? Or are you going to keep standing there like a man who's favored horse just busted up a leg in the Derby?" Bones asked, sarcasm lacing every tone.

The man pulled out a metaphor just to screw with him further, Kirk was certain of it.

"Yes, I've got something I want to share." Kirk said accusingly. He pointed. "You? And you? Together? When the hell did this– and why are you doing that? Here? In sickbay? This is where sick people go to recover! This isn't your love nest!"

"Love nest?" Carol looked like she was trying not to snicker.

"Didn't stop you from going at it with Nurse Hathaway two weeks ago." Bones pointed out.

Asshole.

"Moot point." Kirk waved it off. "You two were keeping a monumental secret from me, your captain and your friend, for however long this… this thing has been going on, and then you just gave me a horrifying image that my precious virgin eyeballs will never be able to un-see!"

It was a pretty good dramatic tirade, if he did say so himself.

Bones sighed and stepped away from Carol, who hopped onto the floor. "We're ever so sorry we wanted to keep our private relationship private, Captain, and we won't ever try to have a personal life ever again." Carol said, her voice falsely contrite.

Bones just glared stubbornly. Kirk knew that glare – it was the like hell I'm going to apologize to you about this glare.

"Fine." Kirk responded. "You are dismissed."

He spun on his heel and headed back to his quarters to grab a drink. And then to find out who already knew about this and why the hell hadn't he been told.

He'd be generous and forgive Bones sometime around tomorrow afternoon. Let the guy sweat it out a little.

Only not like that. Oh God. They've poisoned his brain.

I'll admit I had way too much fun with Kirk's part of the story.

Reviews are as looked-forward to as another Star Trek film! Remember to keep our fingers crossed and remain strong! McCarol Forever!

(Oh Lord I am such a fangirl.)