On the Dotted Line
Fandom: Star Trek
Ship: N/A
Summary: Bones thinks Jim needs a lesson on the importance of actually reading his medical consent forms before signing them.
When Jim had gone for his last bi-monthly physical, he had a long, itemized list of hypos and vaccines awaiting him, Bones lining them up on the examination table with a sheepish, apologetic smile on his face. Bones reminded him that it had been five years since his last round of immunizations, save for a few vaccines here and there based on some of his newly developed allergies. Jim was annoyed and impatient, though he had noticed, subconsciously, that his body had been behaving a little differently for a few weeks. He found himself in uncontrollable sneezing fits when the Enterprise flew past a gas giant, and felt his entire body itch after visiting the science team in the middle of their specimen examinations. He knew the vaccines weren’t optional, but it didn’t make the surprise of them any less annoying.
The thing is, Bones couldn’t even count on two hands how many times he had reminded Jim about his vaccines over the past two weeks, repeatedly bringing it up in hopes that it would soften the blow when the appointment finally did roll around. Somehow, Jim still seemed oblivious about the appointment, despite Bones’ many reminders, and the signed consent forms that had arrived in Bones’ email minutes after he had sent them to Jim a week earlier.
“Kid, you know those emails I send you about your appointments aren’t just to sit and look pretty in yer inbox, right?” Bones had teased, wincing when Jim flinched away from the fifth hypo, “they could’ve given you the rundown about this appointment, had you bothered to read ‘em.”
Jim was testy, and he sent Bones a warning glare, “I signed them, didn’t I?”
Bones had just rolled his eyes, deciding it might be best to engage in the conversation when Jim was a little less irritable, a little less vulnerable.
It is protocol, on the Enterprise, for physicals to be done on a bi-annual basis, most of the crew not changing very much over the span of six months. Of course, the medbay is always open in the case of an emergency, but, for the sake of documentation, complete physicals happen twice a year.
While most of the Enterprise gets along just fine with two physicals a year, their loyal captain has a long, non-exhaustive list of allergies, a new one springing up practically once a week, and a penchant for lying about injuries. As a result of their own stubborn captain, and other stubborn captains in the fleet, Bones managed to have a new protocol introduced into Starfleet regulations that required ship captains to have brief physicals bi-monthly.
Bones, sick and tired of his best friend’s irritability and surprise when a new appointment would arise, despite his constant reminders and emails filled up with consent forms, decided that a lesson of sorts would be in order. Bones is Jim’s primary physician, of course, per request of the captain himself, but there might come a day when Bones’ schedule is filled, or he’s attending an off-ship medical conference, when Jim might have to see a different doctor. For the sake of himself, and any other doctor that might have the displeasure of seeing to Jim Kirk’s temperaments, Bones wanted to solidify to Jim how important it was to read his consent forms prior to signing. It’s not like they have to do with Jim’s immediate physical health or anything, right?
Two months later, when Jim’s next physical rolls around, he is begrudgingly dragged to the medbay, upset that he has to attend another appointment when he, “literally had one like a week ago.”
This time, Bones has gone in a more old-fashioned direction. Bones has, waiting for him and Jim at his desk, a printed copy of Jim’s signed consent forms, his sloppy signature adorning the bottom of every last one.
“Alright, Jimmy,” Bones says, motioning for Jim to hop up on the examination table, “I take it you read through the consent forms?”
Jim raises an annoyed eyebrow, physically fighting back the eyeroll, “I signed them, didn’t I?”
“That you did,” Bones responds with a nod, “so you would know that today we are doing some sensitivity cataloging to use for reference in case of later injuries?”
Jim narrows his eyes, a light pink dusting his cheeks, “sensitivity training?”
“Yup,” Bones replies, popping the ‘p’, he shakes the forms in his hand, waving them in front of Jim, “every last detail written down on these forms.”
“Yeah,” Jim responds, nodding in an attempt to hide his surprise, “yeah, of course.”
“Okay, in that case, let’s get started.” Bones opens the top drawer of his desk and pulls out a feather, placing it on the top of the desk, in plain sight of Jim. “So, would you like to start with rough touch or light touch? We’ve got to catalogue both,” Bones pauses to smile deviously at Jim, “you know, for the sake of thoroughness.”
Jim’s cheeks are rapidly turning more and more pink as he squirms on the examination table, his eyes avoiding the feather at all cost. “I think I might actually have some business to tend to on the bridge, Bones. Isn’t my last physical enough for now?”
Bones grins, “don’t worry, Jim, it won’t hurt at all. Spock’s got the whole ‘captain act’ handled for a bit.”
Now, Jim openly glares at Bones, and Bones just feigns innocence, “you’re evil. I’m firing you, I’m having you sent to a patrol ship, or one of those garbage ships that collects space debris.”
“Sure you are, Jimmy, sure you are,” Bones chuckles, “so I guess rough it is?”
“Wait- no- I- Bohohones! Shihihit, dohohon’t!” Jim giggles, pushing back against Bone’s fingers digging into his sides, “stahahap!”
“No can do, doctor’s orders,” Bones replies, fighting against Jim’s struggling, “and you signed the forms, you should have known this was coming. I warned you, after all.”
Jim shakes his head, squirming every which way until he eventually falls back, legs dangling off the side of the examination table as he shrieks in response to Bones’ fingers.
“Alright, rough on your sides is a 5/10, I’d say,” Bones says out loud, as if truly recording Jim’s sensitivities for anything beyond his own lesson.
“Shuhuhut uhhuhup!” Jim screeches, body jolting when Bones’ fingers move to his tummy, “nohoho! Thihihis ihihis soho duhuhumb!”
“Wow,” Bones feigns offense, “this is for your own sake, kid, and you should’ve known all about it given that I sent you all the information.”
Jim’s laughter is loud and full by this point, chuckling hysterically as Bones pokes and prods all over his tummy. When Bones’ finger grazes the top of Jim’s belly button, he shrieks, unable to stop his own body from arching, inadvertently moving into the touch.
“I think we might have found an outlier, should I catalogue your belly and belly button separately? Bones asks, spidering his fingers around the sensitive spot, “whadya think, kid? Or should we average the ticklishness of both spots and consider it one?”
“Bohones plehehease!” Jim squeals, desperately trying to push at Bones’ hands, “ihihim sorry!”
“I don’t think you are just yet, but I know you will be soon.”
Bones’ hands move up to Jim’s ribs and Jim screams, squirming so hard that Bones has to save him from falling right off the table. Jim’s fists weakly hit against Bones’ chest as he hiccups and snorts through his laughter, throwing his head back.
“Ihihim sorry! Ihihim sohohorehehe! BOHONES!”
“Alright, alright, I’m almost done, Jimmy, just one more spot and I think you’ve learned your lesson,” Bones relays, his fingers slowing on Jim’s ribs, “if I were less knowledgeable, I’d say that your ribs were a 10/10, but I’d say that was a solid 9.”
Jim pants, his entire face red up to his ears, too tired to fight back anymore. When Bones’ fingers scratch roughly into his shoulder blades, he feels as though he’s been electrified, ticklish energy flowing everywhere in his body, his laughter quickly goes silent, and he struggles against the half-hug thing that he and Bones are in, trying to break out of Bones’ hold.
Bones smiles, incredibly endeared, and lets Jim go, his body slumping onto the table. “Now that, was the 10/10. So are we going to read our forms before signing them now?”
Jim is still giggling, twitching on the table and nodding eagerly, “yehehes, yehes, I wohohon’t doho it ahagain.”
Bones takes a playful step towards Jim, as if he’s going to strike again, and Jim shrieks, curling against the wall the examination table is pressed up against.
“Alright, alright,” Bones reaches out and ruffles Jim’s hair, “you’re good to go, kid.” Bones eyes Jim, whose face is bright red, clothes ruffled, hair a mess, “but maybe wait until you’re less red to join your crew.”
“Shut uhup,” Jim groans, standing up and making an attempt to straighten out his clothes, “you’re so gonna pay for this.”Bones turns to his desk, not bothering to watch Jim as he leaves, still red and grinning, “sure I will, kid, sure I will.”
