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Because they regularly came into contact with alien societies, plants, and creatures, every crew member was required to visit the infirmary for a checkup every five months. If a person had been on many field missions, the checkup was required every three months.

And of course, there were always some who sat before him with nervous expressions, since they were afraid of injections or infirmaries themselves, but still, everyone had pulled themselves together and come to see him. Until now.

This morning, Leonard had gone through the past reports and noticed, purely by chance, that one of the files showed no entry yet, even though the examination should have taken place three weeks ago: your file.

At first, he hadn’t thought anything of it. It often happened that the system glitched and the latest updates weren’t always available right away, or that one of the nurses sometimes forgot to press “Send” so the examination would show as complete. Rarely, but sometimes it was entirely possible. But after he’d questioned his entire team and everyone had assured him that they hadn’t seen you even once since the start of the journey, let alone conducted your examination in the last few weeks, Leonard was slowly getting in a bad mood.

Normally, he would have sent you a note in this case, asking you to come to the infirmary as soon as possible; however, after a quick check, he realized that the reason he hadn’t noticed your missed checkup sooner was that someone had tampered with his files and muted the notification he usually received when someone was overdue for their appointment. Since this was no longer just an “accidentally missed checkup” but most likely a deliberate act of disregard on your part, he had grumbled, stood up, and walked straight out of the infirmary. If he couldn’t reach you digitally, he’d have to try the old-fashioned way and pay you a home visit.

First, he’d tried your quarters, but your roommate—whom Leonard had yanked out of her dreams—had sleepily informed him that you were on duty down in engineering. And since Leonard McCoy had nothing to do at the moment except sort out the storage room for the third time this week, he decided to track you down in person. That way, he could just take you with him and save himself a lot of work.

At least, that had been the plan. In reality, he’d been wandering through engineering and the surrounding corridors for at least ten minutes now, trying to find you—or at least Scotty, who he hoped could tell him where to find you.

Sighing, he glanced down at his watch. If he didn’t find one of you within the next five minutes, he would send you a message to come see him and leave a note for Scotty asking him to please send you to the sickbay immediately. In fact, however, luck seemed to be on his side for once in his life, because as he turned the next corner, he found not only Scotty but also you, as you were heatedly arguing with each other over a console.

“Commander, Lieutenant.” You looked up, and with a kind of grim satisfaction, he noted that you had to swallow briefly when you saw him. Rightly so. You had already caused him so much trouble that you had every reason to have at least some respect for him. Scotty, on the other hand, just looked confused. “Doctor? What can I do for ya? Did one of the scanners break again?” His expression grew more concerned. “Or did one of my people get hurt again?” Leonard just shook his head, his eyes fixed on you as you tried to slip away quietly and secretly. “Lieutenant? I think you can guess why I’m here, can’t you?”

You flinched briefly at his direct address and slowly turned to face him, your back straight and your hands clasped behind your back. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, Dr. McCoy.” Your eyes darted around the room as if you were looking for a way out. “Besides, I just remembered there’s a maintenance hatch on Deck 4 that’s been waiting for me for quite some time, so…” You reached for the pad lying on the console, but Leonard stepped in your way and held you at bay with a grim look.

“I’ll make this quick, Lieutenant, because you’ve already wasted enough of my time. My records show that your routine checkup is already three weeks overdue. I’d like you to come with me to the sickbay so we can take care of this right away.”

He could clearly see how you were trying to suppress the grimace your body so desperately wanted to make, but you didn’t quite manage it. “Are you sure? I’d be happy to check again, because I’m pretty sure,” you reached out for his pad, but he pulled his arm back just in time so it was out of your reach.

“With all due respect, Lieutenant, I’m pretty sure none of my team has developed a habit of lying to me.” He flashed a grim smile that made you sink deeper into yourself. “And even if the examination had taken place, it shouldn’t be a problem for you to come along, since you’d have to be in perfect health.”

Your teeth dug into your lower lip, and he could practically see the gears turning in your head. Scotty had been silently observing the exchange until now, but finally addressed you. “Come on, Lass. The good doctor won’t bite; it’ll only take a moment.”

“He looks like he would,” you muttered quietly, obviously meant only for Scotty’s ears, but Leonard heard every word and rolled his eyes internally. He didn’t have time for this nonsense.

“Doctor, would it be possible if I—”

“Look, you have two options now, Lieutenant,” he interrupted you a bit more harshly than he intended, but he was slowly losing his patience. He was a doctor, not a babysitter. “Either you accompany me to the sickbay right now, and we’ll quickly run the scans and tests, and you’ll be back here in twenty minutes at the latest to continue your work and return to the maintenance hatch. Or I’ll leave the engine room without you, note that you’ve refused an order from the CMO—and thus your commandin’ officer—and the whole thing will go all the way up to the captain.”

He could see the color slowly draining from your cheeks and decided to add one more aside. “In addition, he will of course be informed of the strange fact that, of all people, an engineer’s files were tampered with and the notifications were turned off specifically for you. I don’t know much about all that stuff, but ’m pretty sure that with a little diggin’, the person who did this will be found.”

Leonard finished speaking and fixed you with a piercing gaze before taking a step toward you, forcing you to look up at him slightly. “So? What will it be?” He could see that Scotty’s gaze was fixed on his side, but he kept his mouth shut. Even he, who willingly stood up for his team, had to admit that he didn’t have a say in this situation.

Your eyes flickered to his pad, to his face, and straight to the door behind him, and for a moment Leonard truly believed he might have to make good on his threat. After a few more seconds had passed, however, you sighed softly and pressed your pad into Scotty’s hand. “Permission to leave duty, sir?”

Scotty merely nodded, and after casting an almost contemptuous glance at Leonard, you marched out of the engine room with your head held high, leaving Leonard behind.

He gave Scotty a quick nod goodbye before hurrying to catch up with you. Not that you’d take the chance to run away from him again—this time, perhaps, by barricading yourself in a shaft he couldn’t get into. As he watched you stomp morosely toward the elevator, Leonard had the feeling he was going to have his hands full with you.

~~

Over the past few months, Leonard had welcomed you to the infirmary four more times for minor injuries sustained while on duty—nothing serious, usually treated quickly. However, you had never once come to him voluntarily, always accompanied by at least one person who, contrary to what one might have assumed, was not tasked with ensuring that you arrived safely at his office, but was responsible for making sure you didn’t turn back halfway and try to treat yourself with your tools and duct tape.

He had already suspected, before he met you, that you were one of those people who didn’t like going to the doctor. However, he had learned in recent months that you seemed to despise the infirmary so much that, if the saying “An apple a day keeps the doctor away” were true, you would live on nothing but apples until you yourself had turned into one, and in an emergency, you would resort to throwing the fruit at him, as long as it kept the hypospray away from your neck. Several times already he’d had to grab you more firmly than he’d intended to give you injections or medication, and every time you’d stared at him with such a nasty look that he almost felt bad.

To put it simply: Leonard McCoy knew that you didn’t like the sickbay and that you were by far one of his most complicated patients—which was quite a feat, considering who the captain of this ship was. And he knew that the chances of you showing up here without being summoned were very slim.

So he was all the more surprised when, upon hearing his name called, he turned around and saw you, lightly supported by Scotty, enter the sickbay, your face contorted with pain.

Instantly, he set aside the pad he had been looking at and stepped toward you to take you from Scotty and lead you to one of the beds, where a soft groan escaped you as you settled down. “Goddamn it, what happened to you?” The question was directed at you, however, Scotty answered in your place, since you were too busy clenching your teeth.

“She fell off one of the ladders because one of the steps broke off.” Scotty’s eyes were fixed on you, and his concern was plain to see. “I’m no expert, but her ankle is swollen, and in my opinion, her shoulder shouldn’t be stickin’ out at that angle.” Leonard, who had by now walked around you once with a scanner, nodded grimly. “The ankle is definitely sprained, with a mild ligament strain. The shoulder is dislocated, and if I’m not mistaken, the hand on the same arm has a minor fracture.” He looked at you reproachfully. “Damn it, you really need to be more careful.”

He turned around and reached for one of the hyposprays.

“It’s not that bad,” you said, watching the spray in his hand skeptically while trying to slide off the bed as if that would let you escape his reach. Leonard snorted. “Like hell it is. As a professional in the medical field, I’d say I seriously doubt that.” And before you could protest further, he quickly jabbed the hypospray into your neck, eliciting a pained hiss from you. “That’s for the pain, and this,” he continued, jabbing another hypospray into your skin, “is to stop the black spots from dancin’ in front of your eyes.” “How…” “Do I know that?” He snorted as he walked around you. “I’m a doctor, sweetheart, that’s my job—to know.”

As you whimpered softly and glared at him angrily, he set the now-empty hyposprays down beside you on the bed and gently reached for your arm, carefully avoiding the fracture in your wrist. His gaze met yours, and for a brief moment he could see the fear swimming in your eyes. Contrary to the grim expression he often wore, it pierced his heart. He might be harsh, sarcastic, and downright cynical, but he had become a doctor to help people because he couldn’t bear to see them suffer. And right now, he was filled with nothing but compassion, since you were obviously still in severe pain despite the spray, and he tried to give you an encouraging smile as he helped you into a slightly reclined position.

“It’ll hurt for a second. But I have to fix your shoulder before I can take care of the rest, and the longer I wait, the more uncomfortable it’ll be, Darlin’.” Unshed tears welled up in your eyes, but you just nodded and squeezed your eyes shut tightly. “Here,” he murmured, holding out the arm closest to you and gently placing your uninjured hand on it. “I can’t really hold your hand because I need both of mine, but if you’re in pain: squeeze. I can take it.”

He could imagine that the idea of feeling up your doctor was quite uncomfortable for you, but you just nodded silently and grabbed his bicep. “On three. One, two…”

Before he got to three, he pressed against your armpit and pulled your arm upward. A small cry of pain escaped you, and your fingers dug painfully into his upper arm before a soft “pop” was heard and Leonard released your arm, taking care to lay it gently on your stomach. Your breath came out in gasps between your teeth, and he could see that your face was still contorted with pain, though you generally seemed a little less strained, which he took as a good sign.

Gently, he tapped the back of your hand to free it from his bicep. “Careful, darlin’, or you won’t be the only one with a fracture. There’s obviously more strength in you than meets the eye.” Your grip loosened, and he was able to take a step back from you. Leonard reached for the pad again to take a closer look at the rest of your injuries now that he had resolved the most urgent of the problems.

“The ankle shouldn’t cause too many problems,” he told you as he rummaged through one of the cabinets. “I’ll give you a hypospray, and then we’ll cool it down for about an hour or two with one of the biogenerating compresses. That should help with the swelling and make sure most of the pain and discomfort goes away.” As he spoke, he stepped closer and administered another hypospray, applying it much more gently than the previous two. This time, you only flinched just a tiny bit. “However, since your ligaments are overstretched, you’ll have to take it easy—same goes for your hand. I’ll treat it as best I can, but just to be safe, I’d leave it in a bandage for a while to make sure it doesn’t get overworked.”

His gaze shifted back and forth between you and Scott, who was still standing there looking a bit helpless. “That means no repairs for the next two days, no climbing into air shafts, nothing like that. You’re on office duty.” He could see you opening your mouth, most likely to protest, but he cut in before anything came out. “No arguments, that’s an order, Lieutenant.”

Your lips pressed together in a slight pout, and if he hadn’t held them back, you probably would have crossed your arms. Scotty nodded to Leonard. “I’ll make sure the lass doesn’t overdo it. Thanks.” Leonard nodded and looked at you expectantly. “Yes, sir.” The venom in your voice was unmistakable, but Leonard took it as a win and turned to Scotty. “Well, I’ve got a patient to treat. I’m sure you’ve got something better to do.” Without waiting for an answer, he drew the curtain around your bed.

~**~

“Lieutenant, shouldn’t you be sitting at your desk going over reports?” You flinched and, startled, dropped the wrench, sending it clattering to the floor. Slowly, you closed your eyes and took a quick, calming breath in and out, before turning toward the voice that belonged to the man who, over the past few months, had made it his mission to follow you seemingly everywhere you went—and almost every time, one of these encounters ended with you being dragged off to the infirmary or, at the very least, being lectured on how you could better take care of your health.

You looked up at him as he eyed you with a raised eyebrow and reluctantly lifted your chin. “Shouldn’t you be in the sickbay taking care of patients instead of scaring engineers so much that they might injure themselves in an emergency?” His expression grew more grim. You should have learned by now that a grim-faced McCoy only meant you’d be tortured even more, but you’d taken too much pleasure in driving him up the wall, even if you didn’t like the consequences.

“Funny you should mention that. If I recall correctly, you’re one of those patients, and I strictly forbade you from doin’ any kind of heavy physical labor.” You rolled your eyes and picked up the wrench. “Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve been following your orders, Doctor.”

“Oh, really? Then what the hell were you just doin’? Takin’ a coffee break?” It was clear that he was getting more and more upset. You’d noticed that the more upset he got, the stronger his Southern accent became. And in fact, you had to admit to yourself that you’d really enjoyed pushing the doctor to the point where his accent slipped out.

“I had just returned to the office from my break when I saw that the display wasn’t working properly.” You nodded toward the small panel on the wall that you’d been tinkering with just a moment ago. “So I unscrewed the panel briefly, plugged in a cable properly, and screwed it back on.” You raised an eyebrow defiantly, a mirror image of him. “As you can see, I did follow your instructions, because that little bit doesn’t really count as physical exertion. And if you’ll excuse me now, I still have some paperwork waiting for me. I’m going to head out.”

You turned to leave, but McCoy stopped you. “Oh no, you’re not. That’s non-negotiable.”

In just a few steps, he had overtaken you and stood in your way with his arms crossed. “Due to the suspicion that you may have sustained another or additional injury, I’m askin’ you to follow me to the infirmary.” You felt as if you’d been struck by lightning. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like ’m jokin’, Lieutenant?”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a question you could answer with a “yes.” His lips were pressed together so tightly they were reduced to a thin line, his eyebrows drawn together in an angry V, and a glint in his eyes that wasn’t caused by any joy. “Come with me. Now.” His voice was so cold it sent a shiver down your spine; you didn’t dare contradict him and reluctantly followed him into the infirmary.

Once there, he didn’t even have to point to the hospital bed; he simply fetched a few necessary devices from one of the shelves while you sat down. He worked on you in silence, scanning your arm and reading the results from one of the monitors, while the angry furrow in his brow still wouldn’t disappear. The tension was palpable, and you felt the urge to shrink into yourself. Maybe you really had gone too far this time. With your eyes, you followed the movements of his nimble fingers as they swapped one probe for another, entered some data into the computer, and gently examined your arm to determine whether you’d made your injury worse.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured softly, to which the doctor replied with nothing more than a scoff. “It’s your body you’re hurtin’. If you want to apologize to anyone, apologize to yourself.”

You couldn’t explain why, but his words hit you hard. McCoy had always been gruff, and normally his comments hadn’t bothered you much, but something about the way he spoke—and the way he avoided looking you in the face—made your heart sink. Your gaze drifted to the floor. “Yes, sir.”

That made him pause, and for a moment he allowed himself to really look at you. There wasn’t the usual spark of humor and teasing in your eyes. You had your arms wrapped around your body as best you could, and overall, you looked as if your presence there wasn’t uncomfortable because you didn’t like doctors, but because you were genuinely ashamed of your behavior. He looked at the monitor, and when he caught sight of his reflection, angry expression, furrowed eyebrows, and lips pursed into a thin line, the knot of anger, irritation, and worry that had dug itself deep into his chest began to slowly unravel.

“Hey, sweetheart, ” he murmured, tapping the underside of your chin lightly with the hypospray to get you to look up. It took another try before you finally did him the favor and looked him in the eyes. A wry smile formed faintly on his lips before he snorted softly. “I don’t wanna lecture you, and I’ve dealt with enough people who don’t like comin’ here. Damn it, I don’t blame ‘em, it’s not exactly invitin’.” That drew a small smile from you and filled him with a strange sense of satisfaction. “But there’s a difference between that and deliberately failin’ to follow medical orders just because you feel like it. And if it comes to that, I’ll have to step in.”

The smile had vanished from your lips again, but you didn’t look nearly as dejected as you had a moment ago, which he considered a win. “I understand, Doctor.” McCoy watched you for a moment to make sure, that you actually understood what he wanted, before nodding.

“Good.” He pressed the hypospray against your neck. “Watch out.”

~**~

“Uh, Dr. McCoy?” Your voice made Bones look up, and he turned toward you, seemingly confused. You stood there looking a little lost in the middle of the sickbay, your now-healed arm draped across your waist, a slightly embarrassed expression on your face. But what caught his attention was that you were alone.

No Scotty dragging you in, no other colleague or superior who had to practically order you to enter this room—no one. You were here alone and, as he confirmed after a quick glance at one of his pads, of your own free will. At least neither he nor anyone on his team had summoned you, and he hadn’t scheduled another appointment with you either. Instantly, worry washed over him, and he set the pad aside to rush to your side.

“Is everythin’ okay, Lieutenant? Is there an emergency?” Your embarrassed expression only deepened, and you laughed sheepishly. “No, no, nothing like that. I… um.” Another embarrassed laugh escaped you, which only deepened his concern. “Sweetheart?” “Vaccine!” you finally blurted out, though so loudly that the other people in the infirmary turned to look at you, making you feel even more flustered.

“One of my vaccines needs a booster,” you added more quietly, successfully avoiding his surprised gaze. “We didn’ ask you to come here,” he remarked, to which you simply nodded. “I know. I saw it and thought I could get it over with now instead of waiting any longer.” You looked up uncertainly. “Unless, of course, that’s not possible. Then I’ll leave.”

“No, no.” McCoy quickly interrupted you, worried that you’d turn on your heel and flee the sickbay if you had to keep talking. He tapped a few things into his pad before nodding and pointing to one of the beds. “It’s true, you weren’t supposed to come back for another month and a half, but with this vaccine, that doesn’t really make much of a difference. Please.” A sigh of relief, which you tried to hide, escaped you, as you hurried over to the bed he’d pointed out before you could change your mind.

“I have to admit, I’m surprised,” McCoy confessed as he prepared the hypospray next to you and shot you a sidelong glance that made the heat rush to your face even more. “I never thought the day would come when you’d voluntarily set foot in this room.” “Well,” you mumbled into the collar of your uniform, trying to avoid his gaze, the sassy mouth you usually flaunted gone as if it had never existed.

“Maybe I’ve finally found something that makes my stays here a little… more bearable.”

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