“What’s going on, Jim?”
Jim opened his mouth to answer McCoy, but Spock beat him to it.
“We were out by the ocean of this planet—”
Spock touched Jim’s hand. “And Jim decided he wished to surf.”
McCoy held up his hands. “Say no more. He biffed, right? Where’d you hit your head, Jim?”
“He did not hit his head. He became overcome.”
Jim closed his mouth and gave Spock a look.
“Overcome?” McCoy frowned, holding up his tricorder.
“Faint. Heart racing at a rapid pace. Broke out into a sweat. Turned very pale.”
“Hmm. Jim, what did it feel like?”
“It was very hot out,” Spock replied. “He stated he felt nauseated and had a headache.”
“Is that right, Jim?”
Jim opened his mouth.
“His vitals are a bit off,” McCoy said. “When was the last time you ate something, Jim?”
“Not since last night at dinner. And then it was just a small salad.”
McCoy looked at Spock. “Unable to speak is he?”
“I can speak,” Jim said.
“No. Just the heart racing.”
McCoy shoved a hypo into Jim’s neck. “You’re starting to return to normal. Probably a combination of things.”
“Such as?” Spock asked.
“Heat exhaustion, low blood sugar from lack of food, and a panic attack.”
McCoy shook his head. “Go back to your hotel and rest. REST. And eat. And stay cool. And eat.” McCoy pointed at Spock. “You make sure. And calm down, Jim.”
“I can leave?”
Spock helped Jim off the table and then escorted him out of the room and outside where they were having shore leave. Their hotel was only a short distance away from where McCoy had set up to examine Jim.
“What were you panicked about, ashayam?”
“Um. Well. I guess maybe it has been a while since I tried surfing and the waves were more than I anticipated.”
Spock could see that his mate was embarrassed. “Jim, you do not have to show off for me.”
“I hope that you do. For the rest of today, you will sit in our room and I will pamper you, feed you, and make sure you do not overdo anything.”
“I don’t need…you know what? Yes.” Jim sagged against Spock. “I’d love that. I need that. And God, thank you, for your love.”