The com rang out in Chekov's quarters the following morning. He recognized Bone's voice.

"Hey, kid, I need you to get your ass down to the sickbay sometime this morning, I know Alpha shift doesn't start for a few more hours, so don't try to get out of this. I don't want everyone else on the bridge turning into the Captain and 'forgetting' their checkups. So you're all coming down today."

The young Ensign grinned as he heard the message. No matter how grumpy and irritable the doctor was, he always made the young Russian smile with his sarcastic, dour ways of speaking. He yawned and turned over in his bed to look the clock. 9:30 in the morning, and he was still tired. He assumed that's what he got for staying up and brooding over the last day's conversation. Slowly, he rolled over and in a very non-graceful fashion, flopped off the bed and onto the floor, lying there as he tried to force himself into wakefulness.

"You know, it's not natural to sleep on the floor, and it's bad for your back."

Chekov started at Sulu's voice coming from inside his room. He gumbled, "How did you get inside here?"

The Asian-American walked across the room and poked Chekov with his foot. "We have a joint bathroom, remember? And you conveniently left your door to it open, so I decided to stop by and see if you wanted to come to the mess hall for some breakfast with me."

"Nyet, sorry, no, thank you Hikaru. I am just going to sickbay to get checkup over first, then I will meet you downstairs, yes?" Chekov groaned as he lifted himself off the floor. He then stumbled sleepily across his immaculately clean room over to his closet and pulled out his Starfleet uniform, then headed to the bathroom to get ready.

"Alright, see you after then Pavel," called Hikaru, "and make sure Bones doesn't know you haven't eaten breakfast yet, eh? Or you'll probably get to witness a rant on 'healthy eating in underaged, over-stressed young Ensigns. Or something like that."

"Pavel smirked at the thought, "No worries Hikaru, I will see you in very short time. I am in good shape; the doctor will have nothing to complain about." He accentuated the point by cartwheeling out of the bathroom and joining his friend at the door. "Race you to the turbolift?"

Sulu's smile said it all. Without warning, he bolted past Chekov and into the hallway.

"Cheater!" yelled the Russian as he started off after him. Within seconds he had overtaken his friend and made it to the doors of the lift. "You know, the Russians invented running."

Sulu laughed, "Ha, you wanna solve this with a sparring match, Pasha?" He lightly punched his friend in the arm as he caught up with him.

"Ouch! See, look what you have done," said Chekov, holding his arm with a look of mock hurt, "Now I will have bruise on arm, and will have to tell the doctor about the horrible person that has done this to me. How does this make you feel, Hikaru?"

"Pretty damn good actually." came Sulu's joking reply. Laughing, the two entered the now available turbolift, just as Spock exited, staring after the two with a look of utter incredulity.

"....Fascinating....."

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Chekov hesitated slightly at the doors of the sickbay. Sulu had long since gotten off the turbolift and headed to the mess hall, and the navigator stood in the spotless hallway, completely alone. From the sounds of angry mumbling and banging inside, McCoy was in another one of his moods, but times where he wasn't angry at something were few and far between. The doctor also seemed to have a low tolerance for the young Ensign, so Pavel intended to make this visit a quick one. He took a deep breath and strode through the doors, careful not to run into the various medical staff that scurried around.

"He-hello, Doctor McCoy?" Chekov timidly stepped forward. The doctor turned around.

"What? Oh, it's about time you got here, Ensign. Get up on the table, this shouldn't take long. Just standard procedure." Chekov obliged, and sat, waiting for his next instruction. He noticed that the doctor had calmed down considerably since he entered the room.

"And relax kid, I'm not going to hurt you," McCoy prodded him with and instrument, "Loosen up a bit. Ok, sit up straight. Now, take off your shirt for a minute please." The young Russian did so, but not without a tiny hint of a blush reaching his cheeks. He tried to remain relaxed as the doctor continued his examination.

He's in good shape for being so young. Thought McCoy, letting his eyes wander along the young man's toned pectorals. Lean arm muscle lead down to what appeared to be a delicate pair of hands. His calves suggested that the boy generally kept his whole boy in top condition. He's....

"Perfect." He stopped. He had spoken out loud.

" Sir?"

"Nothing, Ensign. You're in good shape. So try to keep it that way." Now that didn't sound creepy... He shook himself. The kid was seventeen! Even thinking about him in such a way was wrong on multiple levels. Trying to take his mind off what was in front of him, he attempted to engage in conversation with the Ensign. "You a runner, kid?"

"Da, sir, it is something I enjoy very much. I even won the Starfleet Academy Marathon when I was fifteen." he said proudly. The doctor couldn't help but grin a bit at the kids accent. All his 'v's sounded like 'w's, and vice versa. Pavel noticed his change of mood.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

"No, no." He knew that the boy was probably sick of being ridiculed and bothered about his accent. "And I'd heard about that, actually. Everyone was all hyped up about the kid that outran every athlete in all of Starfleet."

"Da, most people do not expect much of me because I am so young, it gets frustrating, sometimes." He frowned, "Sorry, I do not mean to complain."

McCoy just shook his head, "Hey, I don't blame you," he stopped himself from calling Chekov 'kid'. "Alright, last thing, can you touch your toes? It's just a flexibility test."

Chekov gracefully jumped off the table and bent over, almost in half, and touched his toes. "Like this, sir?" The doctor mentally slapped himself as he took a voyeuristic glance at the young man's, although seemingly perfect, rear end. Ughh, Leonard, you've outdone yourself in the 'inappropriate' category today..

"Yes, and don't call me 'sir', just McCoy."

"Alright, sir...McCoy." Chekov grinned in his goofy way as he straightened up. "Is this all?"

"Yes.... now get going." All traces of the doctor's former mood were gone. "Get! You're taking up space."

"Aye, sir!" Chekov hastily retreated out the door to meet with his friend, who hopefully still remained in the mess hall. "And thank you, McCoy!"

Bones watched as the boy left. Thank him? For what? Having inappropriate thoughts about the underage navigator?

"No wonder Kirk has taken to calling the kid 'jailbait...' " muttered McCoy as he went about his duties, trying to get a certain pair of big, hazel eyes out of his head.

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Yet again, review please..and read if necessary ;)