Captain Kirk did his best not to get his hands dirty. When he and his men were beamed down to a hostile planet's surface for research purposes only, he allowed others to collect samples and conduct experiments, while he oversaw the work that was being done from higher vantage point. James T Kirk wasn't going to get down on his hands and knees and inspect a rock just for the hell of it. So it was extremely irritating, if not a little ironic, that the one time that Kirk did choose to get down and physical with the ground he was standing on, something like this should happen. One moment he was squatting on a mound inspecting what appeared to be a specimen composed partially of quartzite, the next his feet had slipped from underneath him and now he was on his backside glaring at bloodied hands. Kirk suddenly felt an overwhelming desire for someone else to take charge.

"Mr Spock!" he called.

Spock walked leisurely over to where the captain was standing, and looked inquiringly at him.

Kirk indicated his hands and explained, in some detail, how his predicament had come about.

"Really quartzite, Captain?" replied Spock, raising his eyebrows in interest. "Indeed it is fascinating that we should find metamorphic rocks in this earth, for I would not have thought that the rocks on this planet were subjected to sufficient amounts of heat and pressure, and-"

"Yes, yes, Spock that's very interesting I'm sure," Kirk interrupted quickly. "But what I meant was what do you suggest I do about this?" here he indicated his injury once more.

"Well, I suggest you beam up and go to sickbay at once," advised Spock sternly. "There is hardly a good deal of debating involved with a decision like that."

Kirk sighed, feeling, for a peculiar reason, mightily relieved. "Of course, Spock, thank-you. Take charge, will you?"

Spock offered an almost imperceptible nod and strode off.

The captain managed to grasp his communicator with his uninjured finger tips to contact the ship. "Kirk to Enterprise."

"Aye, Enterprise here," came the familiar voice.

"Could you beam me up, Scotty?"

"Aye, Captain, we're locked onto you. Energizing…"

*****

On the ship Kirk went straight to the sickbay. Doctor McCoy had been a little overworked lately, but seeing as it was only a minor injury and Kirk was in a high position of authority of course, the captain wasn't expecting a particularly strong reaction from his friend.

He couldn't have been further from the truth. The moment Bones laid eyes on the blood on his hands he flew into a rage that would have compromised the fury of a wild beast. "Dammit, Jim!" he yelled. "Dammit, dammit, dammit, Jim-why the hell did you do something like that?! I can't believe you've got yourself into this mess! Don't you have any sense of self preservation?! Have you forgotten how to look after yourself?! Don't you realise what you've done!? I-dammit, Jim!"

Kirk tried to remain calmly in control of the situation. "Bones," he said, as amicably as he could. "You haven't been drinking, have you?"

McCoy stared at him, his eyes wide open and slightly mad. Then, with a roar, he unexpectedly grabbed a hypo-spray and smashed it to the ground. "Dammit, Jim!" he cried. "Get out! Get out now!"

Kirk decided that further reasoning in this situation would be useless, and leapt for the doors. He was left to retire to his quarters and fix his own hands using the unconventional method of bandaging.

Well, despite having started to write chapter two, I have absolutely no idea how this story is going to end. Of course, dear friends, positive reviews always help with quick updates!

Love Jay5merlin :D