❝ Did you happen to get a copy of the powerpoint for              pathophysiology before Shore's website went down?❞

          In all honesty, the last thing Khan wanted was to be assigned an away-mission with none other than Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy.

          Standing just in front of the transporter, letting his fingers twist the tracking device that encircled his left wrist around and around, two sapphire eyes watched the approach of the CMO. Of all the people, of all the medical personnel, they had to go and select McCoy for this particular mission, didn't they? The augment's lips downcurved in displeasure as he stared daggers at the man. There were too many times Khan remembered, clearly, of having to be sedated for one reason or another (one would have thought that he'd have learned to control his foul temper by then!) during his infant weeks aboard the starship. Besides that, the augment believed that the CMO shouldn't even be on the mission; their particular assignment was to be completely exploratory in nature -- they didn't know what was out there, and if the doctor got injured, or worse?

         Losing the chief medical officer during the Enterprise's maiden voyage would be rather... unfortunate, if nothing else. Tragic for the rest of the crew, perhaps, but the augment did not believe he would miss the man; after all, he'd stolen his blood, revived his enemy.

          If anything, Leonard McCoy was on Khan's mental Skulls-To-Be-Squashed list.

          Of course, two red-shirted security personnel and a science officer (whose name the augment had never cared enough to learn) flooded the transporter room, trailing the doctor before moving onward to stop in a too-close huddle around the augment -- as if they really expected him to pull a move at that particular moment! Khan's perpetual scowl deepened, both in regards to the crew members that stood too close to him, and the fact that the CMO seemed to be taking his damn sweet time. His irritated gaze remained transfixed on McCoy, vexation clear in the harsh curve of his lip and the glitter of his cerulean eyes.

                  ❝ keep. it. cool. ❞

      gently, the bunny emerges from the bar with       a tray of whiskey, cocktails, an shots. punzie       was a relatively new name to be accustomed       to, and the blonde huffs, trying to search the       entire club for any man who needed to be s-       atsified. it wasn't long until other bunnies ur-       ge her to finally take her pick -- - to be frank,       rapunzel was terrified, yet kept her posture       perfectly; the bunny stance.

                           the slender figure squeezes unto the massive                            crowd of the locomotion craze; and green hues                            are met with such distant eyes she had seen in                            a while --- - someone who did not ooze of over-                            confidence and to sexually harass the woman.                            rapunzel's voice was sweet, smooth, and was                            still laced with chastity. however, she tried to                            become bunny punzie right now; dainty fing-                            ers suggestively point towards the alcohol.