Don't Even Mutter It
   He was in trouble. As soon as that Southern voice came thundering through the com on the chair, Jim knew he wouldnât be getting out of this one. A few minutes after casting broken puppy expressions at the enitire crew on the bridge, he trudged his way down to Medical. He knew what this was for. For the past few days the blonde had been sick; high fever, occasional bouts of puking. The normal. But the problem was, it acted like the common cold. Something that couldnât be possible since he had received the cure for it; meaning that it was probably alien. Again.Â
        â â-Bones. â The name was stated to draw the otherâs attention, informing the good doctor that he was here. Surprisingly enough. The Georgian had no doubt assumed that he would need to scour the hallways and all the places Kirk frequented before getting the kid to go to Medical Bay, but hey- he could be cooperative sometimes.Â
Cooperative was such a loose and at times undefined term on this ship. McCoy was not the type of man to lash out all the time with anger but something about insubordination from one's own Captain about getting help for disease and other assortment of illnesses. It got under his skin. He was here to protect them.
Not just Jim.
But if the Captain insisted on being difficult he couldn't very well do his job. He gave Jim a surprised look that didn't last longer than two seconds. "Thank you. Come here and let me check your temperature." Bones was still attempting to figure out what exactly had gotten into the Captain. If he tested him enough and analyzed his symptoms Bones would have an easier time pinpointing the cause and neutralizing it.
He couldn't do that when Jim ran from him all the time.













