(A/N:The author of this story isfemale-to-male transgender. Language that is used in this fanfiction are terms thatIam comfortable using, but may notcoincide with other people's 'correct' terms for transgender terms, especially having to do with anatomy. Everyone has their own version of what feels 'right' to them, and they may not be the same as mine. That being said, do not comment about what terms should be used, because I will ignore them. If you do not like the terms and ideas in this fanfiction, please do not continue reading it.

Also, in regards to Chekhov's accent, I am basing it off of people who I know personally whose first language is Russian. When they speak English, I rarely hear words like "a, am," etc. I am basing his accent off of linguistical Russian-to-English, rather than proper English grammar.)

"It's time for your monthly check-up." Bones said, taking out his box of latex gloves. Chekov groaned.

"Can't I just get shot?" he whined.

"You know you need to get checked. It's for your health." Bones said sternly. The young Russian sighed.

"Da, yes sir." He mumbled, fidgeting in his seat. Ever since he was a kid, he hated going to the doctor. All the white walls and medical equipment always made him nervous, even to this day. He felt he should have been used to it by now, but nonetheless he still flinched when Bones took a blood sample from the crook of his elbow. He placed the vial in a scanner, which took a count of all the different types of blood cells in his system. After about thirty seconds, the scanner beeped.

"Hm. It looks like your red blood cell count is a little higher than last time." Bones noted. "I'm going to have to lower your dose a bit to bring them back down to normal."

"But—"

"It's not going to effect any of the changes." He interrupted. "The reduction will be so low that you wouldn't even notice. It's just to bring your blood cell count down, because that could be dangerous."

Chekov bit his lip in frustration.

"Do you understand?" he asked after a moment. Chekov nodded. He knew that Bones was just trying to help him through a medical standpoint and that he was just doing his duty as a doctor, but lowering his dose by even a fraction made him nervous.

"Alright, let's give you your shot and you'll be on your way." He said. Chekov slipped off his pants halfway down his legs and Bones injected the testosterone into his thigh. Chekov winced.

"Oh come on, you should be used to this by now?" Bones laughed, sealing the entry point with a liquid bandage.

"Still feels weird." Chekov said. "I know, I know, I should 'take it like man.'" He smirked.

"Oh believe me, there are those that are far worse." Bones said. "Like when I had to give Scotty his vaccinations, he nearly fainted—Jim, what the hell are you doing in here?"

Chekov's blood turned to ice and he frantically tried to pull up his pants.

"I was just wondering if you had anything for a hangover—"

"Get out of here, I'm in the middle of an examination!" Bones exclaimed.

"What's the big deal?" Kirk asked. "Our ensign looks healthy to me."

"Out!" Bones roared, practically shoving him out the door.

"Yeesh, not so loud…" Kirk grumbled before Bones sealed the door shut.

"Sorry, Pavel." He sighed, rubbing his temple. "I should have made sure it was locked."

"It's okay, sir." Chekov said. "I was just afraid zat he would hear what we talk about."

"Pavel, you know that no one will judge you for what's between your legs, right? I certainly don't. None of the crew do."

"You are doctor." Chekov pointed out. "You know how body and mind work, and why I was born zis way. I like ze keptin, but he can be… nosy. I fear zat he may try to picture me as girl and zat he won't take me seriously."

"Jim can be an idiot, but he's not closed-minded." Bones said. "You have all the rights in the world to tell who you want, but I can guarantee that he wouldn't think of you any differently."

"I guess you're right. Zank you."

"You're welcome; now report to your shift before Spock asks me where you are… again."

Chekov could still hear his heart pounding as he made his way to the bridge. He hoped that Kirk didn't see him with his pants down… and yet in the back of his mind, he secretly hoped that he did.

Chekov shook his head. He didn't feel very comfortable telling Kirk about his condition, mostly because it wasn't on a need-to-know basis for him. The only person who really knew what was going on was McCoy—after all, he was the one giving Chekov his monthly checkups and hormone shots. He had a great advantage to keep his cover, which was that he was still quite young compared to everyone else. He had joined the Enterprise crew when he was seventeen and had only started hormones six months prior to joining. To the rest of the crew, he just seemed to be developing later, which no one seemed to bat an eye at. Currently nineteen, he no longer looked like a young teenager, and the hormones had caught up to him.

The only thing that bothered him with his transition is that the testosterone sometimes clouded his brilliant mind and made him very, very horny. Luckily, he was able to control that now, but the one person who he couldn't help thinking about when he had to relieve himself was the ship's very handsome captain. Through the transition, Chekov never found himself attracted to women, or even to men to a certain extent. He had a speculation that he was simply asexual, which was completely fine with him. Then he met James Tiberius Kirk.

To say that he was smitten with the captain would be a huge understatement. Thinking about him drove Chekov crazy. Yet, even with these strong feelings, he had no desire to pursue him; after all, Kirk was well-known for being a woman-izer. He thought it was better just to keep him in his thoughts.

"Spock to Chekov. Your presence on the bridge is becoming increasingly necessary, Ensign."

The page startled him so much that he jumped.

"Y-yes Meester Spock, I'm on my way." Chekov stammered, now running at this point. He was not in the mood to be pried for information. If Kirk could be nosy, Spock was a close second. He finally barreled through, nearly hitting Sulu on the way.

"You're two minutes and thirty-six seconds late." Spock said. "I assume that Dr. McCoy was the one that kept you?"

"D-da, yes sir." Chekov panted. Spock looked like he was going to say something else until Kirk came in and assumed his position on the captain's chair. He looked tired, to say the least, but better than he did when Chekov saw him earlier.

On the contrary, the fresh dose of testosterone in the young Russian's system was starting to make him antsy. He suddenly wished that he had waited until he was off-duty to get his injection; he felt like he could run through deep space.

"So Mr. Chekov, how long do you think until we reach Earth?" Kirk asked.

"With ze engine not working to full capacity, ze time we will reach Earth is not accurate." Chekov explained. "Computer says we will reach by 1300 hours tomorrow, but I zink it will be more like 1500."

Kirk sighed, rubbing his temple.

"I'm sowry, Keptin."

"It's not your fault, Mr. Chekov. Without you, we wouldn't even have had an engine at all." He smirked. Chekov blushed.

"I try to fix as much as possible, but there is only so much she can take without proper equipment. I mean, if I was not under state of panic, I may have been able to—"

"Whoa, Chekov, slow down!" Kirk laughed. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Da, Keptin." He muttered, blushing even harder. Kirk paused for a moment, as if he didn't believe him, before he started giving orders to the rest of the crew. Chekov focused on his work, but he couldn't help but feel elated whenever Kirk would mention that he had nearly single-handedly saved the Enterprise's engine from total destruction.

He was so focused on the computer that he didn't even notice that Kirk was right next to him before he whispered in his ear, making Chekov jump.

"I want to talk to you after your shift, Ensign." Kirk murmured.

"What? I am in trouble?" Chekov asked, breaking out into a sweat.

"No. I just want to talk to you, okay?" he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're so jumpy, Ensign. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Da, Keptin. Just feeling… little bit off." He admitted.

"Just page me when you're done."

Chekov nodded.

"Da, sir."