McCoy's eyebrows keep going up the longer she talks, then quirk even higher at the comment about Spock being his friend. And, well, he is but it isn't something McCoy puts into words often. He's got about fifty things he wants to say to all this, most of them along the lines of 'hell no.' But she's got those big eyes trained on him, all earnest-like, and his resolve wavers. Holding his tongue he lets out a sigh and rubs his brow with a wince.

"Look, uh, why don't you come in here and have a seat. We'll chat about this." He waves a hand at the open door and flicks the lights back on, blinking in the fresh glare of florescents.

Sitting at one of he chairs in front of the desk he gestures to the one opposite him. "So. Spock. How did you meet him?" And like him?, he doesn't add.