SFR 800:3.14159265358979323846264

James T. Kirk didn't just walk into Sickbay for his quarterly physical, he sauntered. He was damn-near strutting. Leonard McCoy recognized the self-congratulatory grin on his captain's face for what it was, and grimaced.

"Got your girdle on too tight?" greeted the doctor just for the hell of it and because he knew he was probably the only one who could get away with talking to the captain like that.

Jim's smile ticked up a notch or five and his stride took on even more swagger. "Don't hate, Bones," he said, unfazed and unrepentant as he heaved himself onto a biobed. "Just because you're too ornery to take your own advice is no reason to lay into me."

Leonard considered the merits and consequences of various painful but otherwise harmless hyposprays in his dispensary. He decided against using any of them. Jim wouldn't write him up for it, but he'd sure as hell make Len pay for it with months of teasing references to the doctor's "jealousy."

Instead, Enterprise's CMO kept his expression as neutral as possible as he went through the familiar litany of tests. By the time he was halfway through, he no longer even needed to try. And by the end, he'd come across enough pleasant surprises to almost make him smile.

"When'd you stop using Spanx®?" he asked, awed by his friend's newly svelte — well, more-svelte-than-before — physique, in spite of his earlier annoyance. "I know you haven't been hitting the gym more often."

Kirk grinned crookedly, hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. Len knew for a fact that a whole lotta women found that smile enticing, Spanx® or no Spanx®, and realized about the same time he registered the look that he didn't want his question answered. He opened him mouth to snap out a "never mind," but damn it, Jim was already talking.

"Janice is a demanding woman, Bones." He smiled harder and his eyes sort of lost focused in a way that made Len's innards heave — he really didn't need to know what Jim was remembering — before adding, "Who needs the gym when you've got a, er, personal trainer who drops by every night?"

Len jumped in before Jim could share much more. And he would. That was just the ol' devil's way.

"Well goody for you, Captain," the doctor snarled. Not that he was bitter or anything. "Too bad I can't say the same for your crew!"

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Leonard regretted them. Sure, he was gonna have to talk to Jim about the others, but a more professional approach would have been wiser. He knew it was too late to pretend change the subject when his friend traded the saucy rogue look for his "concerned captain" expression.

"What do you mean, Bones?" Jim sat up, all signs of playful teasing gone. "Is someone ill?"

Len sighed.

"Nobody's sick. Yet."

Kirk folded his arms across his now well-defined chest, silently urging Len to continue.

"It's Spock, Jim," he admitted. "And Uhura," he added in an undertone, even though they were alone in a sound-proofed examination room. "Each of them has been exhibiting signs of abnormal irritability, slightly elevated blood pressure — though in Spock's case that's almost a good thing—insomnia and an increased reaction to tactile stimulus."

"Sounds like PI deprivation, to me," the captain diagnosed.

"That's because it is."

"What?" In his shock, the captain leapt to his feet, arms falling to his sides and hands curling into fists. "How?" He surged forward and grabbed Bones by the upper arms, stopping just short of shaking the fitter man. "I mean, those two? After Mayteca, they should be in even better shape than me! Why in the galaxy aren't they?"

The first emotion to sweep over Len was incredulity. It was rapidly replaced by anger. He violently pulled himself out of the captain's grip.

"Why aren't they?" he snapped. "Because you practically ordered them to keep their hands off each, that's why!"

"What?" Kirk yelped again. "But I never—Oh…" He at least had the grace to look ashamed of himself as he remembered the harsh admonishments he'd unleashed on the two officers. "But I didn't mean they couldn't have PI! I just didn't want them to end up with a kid and have to leave the ship."

Grunting, McCoy shook his head and turned to put away some equipment. "Doesn't matter what you meant to do. What matters is what you did. And how it's affecting two pretty damned important members of your crew!"

"So, we'll have to make them have PI," the captain said, shrugging.

"Don't be an idiot! You can't just order them to knock boots, Jim!" McCoy scoffed, too wrapped up in worry about his patients to try to hide his outrage.

Not that he would have even under normal circumstances, Jim mused. Before Jim realized what he was doing, a low chuckle escaped his lips.

The doctor slapped his desk so hard, Kirk actually flinched. Something told him his friend was thinking of the composite desktop as substitute for the captain's own face. The thought only made Jim smile. Bones could probably stand to order himself

"Even if it wasn't against regs for you to go nosin' around other people's beds uninvited, they're your friends," Len continued once Jim was paying attention again.

"Maybe I can't, but you can at least remind them it's your duty to enforce the PI reg."

McCoy stroked his chin, somehow managing to still look grim as his face loosened into something more like thoughtful.

"Well, Vulcans are exempt, of course, but Spock's in a grey area, being half human and all. But I could order Uhura to comply. If I wanted my ass handed to me, that is." He shook his head, then aimed a bleak, defeated look at Kirk. "Naw, Jim. Even if I said something, Uhura'd just use her PI-Surrogate and Spock would go on about how he's not answerable to rules aimed at other humanoids.

"The thing is, PI-Ses are great for relieving the tension, but I don't think it'll work in this case. And worse, Spock doesn't have a PI-S. He never needed one before Mayteca. But after you ordered them not to—"

"I never ordered them not to have PI!" Jim snapped.

"Ever since you let them think you didn't want them engaging in Palliative Intercourse with each other," the doctor went on, "the two of them have been on a downward spiral. I guess it wasn't so bad at first, or else you would have noticed it as soon as you got back. But now the both of them are internalizing it, and I don't think it'll be long before one of them breaks down."

But James Tiberius Kirk wasn't easily thwarted. His eyes did that losing focus thing again, then a second or so later, a sly smile took over his face. When he looked up, Len knew there would be no talking the man out of whatever he had up his sleeve.

"Don't worry, Bones," said Jim, slapping him heartily on the back. "I know just how to handle this."

McCoy groaned to himself. Nope. There was nothing he could do change his captain's mind once it was made up. He made a last-ditch effort, anyway.

"Since when you care about following regulations, Jim?"

Kirk grinned that devilish grin that usually ended up meaning trouble for the whole crew — just before the same grin got them all out of it again.

"Bones," he said, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder, "it's PI. Of course I care."

A/N: This story mostly stands on its own, but it is a sequel to The Pie (/s/5846344/1/The_Pie). Other than the references in this and one other chapter, however, there really isn't much overlap and you can probably glean enough from the context to avoid reading The Pie.

Disclaimer: If I owned any of the publically recognizable characters or concepts, I probably wouldn't be writing fanfic.