Spock Leaves A Lasting Impression

[Laura Cynthia Chambers]

A little clarification; this takes place after the Gorn attack is repelled in the video game. Spock had to heal a broken leg bone Kirk suffered as a result of falling off a Gorn ship into the rubble of a building it crashed into on New Vulcan, early on in the game. Apparently, he thought his work was very well done. (at least in my story.) A work of art, to be precise. You'll see...

It's never a good sign when your doctor starts to laugh during your physical.

After two days of cajoling and several threats, Kirk had finally agreed to more than a cursory patch-up of the cuts and scrapes incurred while rescuing T'Mar from the clutches of the Gorn. A security detail consisting of Lieutenants Hu'tian and Xabora had met him at his door early that morning.

"Thanks, but I think I know the way to medbay." Kirk yawned and tried to brush past them, but a firm grip on his arm stopped him.

"Sorry, sir. Dr. McCoy insisted." Xabora's bright yellow eyes glinted in the dim lighting of the hallway. She released his arm. "Rather forcefully. He mentioned no less than six things he would do to you if you failed to show up."

"Ouch….sounds painful." Kirk rubbed his neck. Just thinking about the possibilities made him wince. "Well, seeing as there's no way out of it….lead the way."

And so he had walked between the two security officers to the turbolift, then out and down the damaged hallway to the good doctor's lair. Medbay was unusually quiet that morning, despite its messy appearance. Only two nurses were visible in the large room. One of them covered her mouth in a yawn as she pointed to something on a display screen. Night shift filling in day shift, I guess. Amazingly, the computers seemed to be in good shape after the events of the previous incident. A few wall panels hung open, and some wires dangled loose in an out-of-the-way corner. But the dead Gorn and blood splatters had been cleaned up. Bones wouldn't have it any other way.

After a bit of work, Kirk stiffly sat down on a biobed, one leg crossed under the other, which swung back and forth. His escorts stood off to the side. Hu'tian remained straight, his spine curved away from the divider, while Xabora shifted back and forth on her feet, restless. A low growl issued from her stomach, and she blushed bright blue.

"Hungry? Don't stay here on my account." Kirk smiled. "I'll be good, I promise. Fingers firmly uncrossed." He held up his hand to show her. She didn't answer.

"You heard the man. Put something in your stomach. Can't work on an empty tank." McCoy stepped in around the divider and past the security officers. "Well, I'll be. I got you right where I want you." He folded his arms across his chest. "Nice work," he called to Xabora and Hu'tian as they departed, he as rigid as before, she at a clipped pace that indicated she was more than eager to get to the mess hall.

"Good morning, Dr. McCoy," Kirk sang, in a childish kindergarten-student-to-teacher kind of way. He shifted on the bed, stretching his leg. "Ouch…man…"

"Not so pleasant for you, huh?" McCoy pulled up Kirk's records on the display. An image of his face appeared next to a long list of maladies. "If I'm not mistaken, that's the one you busted, correct? We'll take a look at that in a second. First, I want to shake your hand." He extended his hand to Kirk, who looked at him, confused, before taking it and pumping it up and down in an unsure way. "Congratulations."

"For what?"

"You were exposed to a deadly pathogen for a whole day and wonder of wonders, did not catch it. That, my friend, is quite the achievement." He prepped a hypospray. Oh man….

"For me or anybody?" Kirk leaned back on his elbows, pointing up and to the right.

"Both, but especially you. Hold still." He pressed the injection device to the side of Kirk's neck with a hiss. "That oughta take some of the sting out of your leg."

"Or merely distract me with a pain in the neck."

"Either/or." McCoy shrugged.

"Which you are, by the way." Kirk sat up and eased backwards.

"Ha ha. Straighten it out if you can, please." McCoy touched the X-ray imaging tab on his computer screen. Kirk extended the leg, squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. "For crying out loud, I'm just taking a little picture, not lancing a boil." Click. "Okay, you can move now….I-….have… ha-" He froze. What? "Fffft!" He covered his mouth, but a few flecks of spray hit Kirk in the face.

"Nice," Kirk muttered as he wiped his cheek with his sleeve. "And not very sanitary, Doctor. What's gotten into you?" And what does it have to do with my X-ray?

By now, McCoy was leaning over the bed for support, laughing his head off. After a few more seconds, he straightened up, wiping away tears and sputtering. A few more chuckles, and then he coughed a little before swallowing. "Sorry, Jim. I-I just…lost it for a second there."

"Apology accepted." He tipped his head to the side. "Care to explain what's so funny about my battle wound?"

"It would appear that Mr. Spock fancies himself quite the artiste." Kirk gripped the edge of the bed as McCoy continued to stare at the screen. "Funny, I never would have guessed it of him."

"You're talking in riddles." Kirk stabbed the air with his finger. "Out with it."

"See for yourself." McCoy swiveled the screen so Kirk could see. His gaze traveled along the image of the formerly broken bone. It appeared to be perfectly restored. What? I don't see any- wait a second….No. Way.

There, at the end of the bone, near his ankle, written with a flourish in calligraphic script, was one word;Spock.

"He didn't." Kirk facepalmed "Ugh, I'll kill him."

McCoy placed his hand on Kirk's shoulder. "Easy there, Jim. I can get rid of it like that." He snapped his fingers. "The engraving is only 3 millimicrometers deep."

Kirk peered between his fingers at McCoy. "Only."

"Yes, only." McCoy smiled at Kirk. "Think of it this way," he drawled as he reached for a tool. "Green-blood couldn't sign your cast, so he did the next best thing."

Maybe so….but I'm still going to get him for that.

 

[Laura Cynthia Chambers]

Another story inspired by the 2013 video game. Remember those places where players could have their character's health restored? McCoy has no love for them, or anything that presumes to replace doctors.

Note: My earlier short, "Spock Leaves A Lasting Impression", is set during when McCoy's more thorough follow-up on Kirk. This is the cursory exam that took place just after they returned to the Enterprise.

Dancing Bones

Leonard McCoy studied the readings from the display screen above Kirk and Spock's adjacent biobeds and made notes on his tablet. He looked up at his two patients, lips pursed. "Aside from a few minor burns, those hairline fractures of Jim's, a little smoke inhalation, and sheer exhaustion, you're both in pretty good shape for two people who've been fighting a war all by themselves all day."

Spock's eyebrow rose. "We were hardly by ourselves, Doctor. In addition to support from the crew of the Enterprise, yourself included, as well as T'Mar-" he raked a gaze in the direction of a surgical recovery room where the Vulcan woman lay unconscious – "and the crew of Frontier-17 starbase, we also managed to avail ourselves of several weapons, both standard and improvised. In addition, we made use of several refreshment stations scattered throughout the various locations we traveled through. By doing so, we were able to sustain ourselves until the mission was complete."

"Refreshment stations?" McCoy scoffed. "I'd better do more thorough bloodwork on the both of you, then. No telling what the Gorn consider 'refreshment'." He scribbled a note on the tablet.

"Great. I'm already feeling like a pin cushion," Kirk moaned, closing his eyes.

"You'll thank me later," McCoy replied, punctuating his words with the tip of his stylus. "Even the standard Starfleet units can only go so far towards healing a man. They'll never replace doctors, let me tell you that."

"They were not intended to." Spock sat up in bed. "They merely exist to provide emergency relief as a stopgap until proper medical care can be accessed."

"Too bad." Kirk swung his legs over the side of his bed. "At least a refreshment station doesn't smart mouth you, or insult your intelligence, or offer unsolicited advice…" he listed, counting on the fingers of one hand.

McCoy's lip curled.

"Nor does it make disparaging remarks about your ancestry, resort to crude obscenities or obscure colloquialisms." Spock folded his arms over his chest, eyeing the doctor with a look of disdain.

McCoy frowned and set the tablet on top of a cart nearby. "Maybe so, but can it do this?" He began to move his feet, arms swaying from side to side, accompanying himself by humming softly. "Da da, da, da da, da, da!" Pivoting around on one foot, he spun until he was facing his patients again and stopped, throwing both arms up in the air, his breathing slightly labored from the light exertion.

Spock raised an eyebrow and turned to Kirk, a disturbed look on his face.

Kirk shook his head at Spock, then turned to McCoy, rolling his eyes. "Another reason I prefer automation," he offered, biting back a grin at the doctor's scowl.