Sleepy

If he hadn't'a been up all night proofreading reports, this never would've happened. Doctor McCoy yawned quietly into his hand. The longer this little get-together went on, the longer he went without a good few hours sleep. Too bad Spock was makin' a speech fit to reduce even a seasoned filibuster to tears.

Everybody was paying attention to the best of their abilities. Scotty appeared to be taking notes, but it was a science-y topic so that was par for the course. Uhura, not usually one to fidget, twirled a stylus in her fingers. Jim was the least subtle of the bunch- fiddling with his PADD of all things- but Spock was so caught up in Scotty's left-field inquiry that he didn't notice.

McCoy leaned into his fist. Sure, someday he may need to know about the resonance frequency of dilithium when exposed to electromagnetic fields of a certain magnification… Did the crystals even vibrate? What did the resonance do? So far as he could tell, none of the practical applications had been discussed in the… Forty. In the forty minutes Spock had been talking.

Next time he had to perform surgery on resonating dilithium, he was gonna give Spock an earful.

He couldn't string together a really coherent thought after that point. McCoy made a half-hearted attempt to glare at Jim. It wasn't very becoming for the Captain to be goofing around during the meeting. Why, one wondered why Spock hadn't-

"Perhaps Doctor McCoy could enlighten us, that is, if he had been paying attention…"

He dropped his fist onto the table and blinked. Spock was giving him that look. The others had turned on him as well. Jim hid a giggle behind his hand. Alright. Two could play at this game.

"Why Spock, you know better than any of us that it's a controlled annihilation reaction. You can skip the basics on this section and go right along with your theory. Unless, of course, Jim needs a second to update his notes. You're bein' real thorough, aren't'cha?"

Jim hastily set his PADD on the table while the rest of them stared at McCoy, dumbfounded. He grinned easily and sat back in his chair. "Go ahead, Spock. Tell us about those charged particles."

Spock, whose eyebrows had ascended from this plane of existence, turned back to the screen. McCoy crossed his arms and smirked. After that fiasco, Jim might call it early and he could get to that nap. And sure enough, nobody asked him any more fool questions. Perfect.

Really, just how did these folks think he got through medical school?

Drowsy

Just who's bright idea was it to change his alarm tone to that shrill screaming noise?

Wait.

McCoy's head shot up off his desk. It took a second for his vision to clear, but he was already stumbling towards the door. He blinked hard. It was too dark in here by far… Oh. The bright lights of the Sickbay made him squint and that shrieking was much louder out here.

It was Nurse Klayton. Well, he thought that was her. Somebody in blue flew into his arms and nearly knocked him over. McCoy grabbed onto the hysterical wrecking ball and took a bracing step backwards.

"Now just hang on a minute here." Klayton was much less coherent up close. McCoy tried to get a look at what might be troubling her, but she had her face buried in his uniform. That wasn't very professional. Something must be seriously wrong.

McCoy glanced around to see what might've set her off. Couldn't be the empty biobed, or the floating tricorder- that one was harmless enough-, maybe the broken glass on the floor that might be…

He had to find some time to sleep.

While some of his wits were still in the gathering stage, McCoy did what he could and got between Klayton and the apparition. The tricorder didn't seem to be doing much, but it was the principle of the thing that offended him.

"That ain't oughta be floatin'." He remarked. It may just be his imagination, but he could swear he heard somebody snort. He narrowed his eyes. Un-sourced giggling meant pranksters, and pranksters in Sickbay were awarded a slow and painful death. They all ought to know better after the last prank war. Kevin Riley hadn't been able to look McCoy in the eye for weeks.

McCoy looked around. No strings visible, but that didn't mean much. "Alright, who's the wise guy? I won't have you runnin' around, terrifyin' my nurses for no good reason. You better come clean b'fore I get Security down here to sweep the deck. Your little scheme ain't the only thing that's gonna get busted, lemme tell you-!"

The tricorder descended. Slightly. Come to think of it, it hung about where it ought to if it was being worn by somebody. Klayton stayed put behind her human shield, but McCoy was starting to have second thoughts about this here poltergeist. They might be able to chase it off with a stern warning.

"Wery sorry, Doctor. I was just having a bit of fun."

"Chekov." He should'a known. No, wait a minute, how could he have known? Also, why was the ensign invisible? What had Chapel put in that coffee?

"It was a side effect of the radiation on the planet's surface." The disembodied Russian accent said. "It is only temporary. Meester Scott said it would last no more than half an hour. There have been studies…"

McCoy blinked. Yes, he did remember something like that from the briefing. But, nobody'd mentioned the fact that invisible crewmen were going to be running around wreaking havoc. He was pretty sure there was a regulation against that. Would Scotty really sentence Chekov to certain death-by-angry-CMO? Something about this didn't sit right. McCoy frowned. Because if he remembered right, in the briefing Jim'd said- he'd said… Oh for the love-

"It don't work on clothes, do it?"

"Not exactly sair, but I have fifteen minutes left until the effect starts to fade. I also received permission from the Keptin to… haunt the Sickbay, provided I did not interfere with the patients-"

"Chekov, you may've lost track of some time waitin' 'round here to scare somebody." That, and Jim was officially living on borrowed time. There were two ways this could go down: If Chekov stayed, he'd be subject to whatever punishment McCoy saw fit to inflict and Klayton would get and eyeful. Or, Chekov could get the heck outta Dodge.

"I uh…" He pushed Klayton further behind his back. "I suggest you run."

The tricorder hurried away faster than he thought was possible. Klayton returned to her post and McCoy returned to his office, shut off the lights, and dropped his head into his hands.

Boy, they did not pay him enough for this.

Tired

Janice had made him coffee this morning. She alone would be spared.

Doctor M'Benga had contracted Cetarian Influenza. The poor man was suffering in quarantine and couldn't help screen the crew for parasitic larvae they'd picked up on the beaches of Marecis II. Shore leave. McCoy figured at this point it was just another way to say 'testing Medical's patience'.

"Report to Nurse Chapel for decontamination." Lieutenant Brent's eyes went wide. McCoy almost felt sorry for the guy. Brent was nice, and the decontamination process was not. It involved several hypos and a few awkward showers. Come to think of it, he almost felt sorry for Chapel too. But sympathy came with sleep, and he hadn't had any since… uh…

"Next!"

McCoy ran his scanner over Lieutenant Leslie. Yep. He and Brent were pals. They'd probably picked up the larvae at the same… He frowned at the scanner in his hand.

"Leslie, where did you come into contact with sand?" Maybe he could narrow it down. McCoy scrubbed at one eye and waited for an answer.

Leslie swallowed. "The north beach. Brent, Riley, Sulu, and I played volleyball all afternoon." That sealed Leslie's fate. Riley had already been admitted. He'd walked out of decontamination a broken man. That'll teach them to ignore wildlife advisories.

McCoy might be able to nip this in the bud. The north beach had an advisory out since before the Enterprise arrived. He glowered at Leslie, leaning in close to make sure his point went home.

"If you'd like your next physical t' go smoothly," He began, "then you're gonna round up ev'ry single person you even think might've been on that beach and bring 'em straight to Nurse Chapel." McCoy slapped his PADD against his hand. "Understood?"

Leslie squeaked something and took off down the line. McCoy sighed. He'd still have to screen everyone who'd been on leave, but at least he'd get through his part faster. Chapel had the added benefit of having commandeered the cargo bay to conduct things in. Blasted shore leaves…

Everyone who'd witnessed what had happened to Leslie approached McCoy trembling. They'd see. They'd all see.

He was just finishing the last patient- Janice, bless her, had brought him more coffee- when an exceedingly pale Leslie shuffled up. McCoy raised an eyebrow.

"Everyone's reported to decontamination, sir, except me and-"

"And just why haven't you gone down, Lieutenant? Do you want the rest of the ship catchin' these little parasites?"

Leslie was a very brave man. Still, he looked like he was going to keel over any second.

"I was going to, sir. Everyone's reported except me and the Captain." He misinterpreted the darkening expression on McCoy's face and panicked. "I tried to find him. I looked everywhere!"

McCoy straightened up and set the PADD down on the desk. Leslie fell quiet.

"You." He jabbed a finger at the Lieutenant. "Chapel. Now."

Leslie might've broken the sound barrier had he left any faster. McCoy took a deep breath, straightened his tunic, and walked out of his Sickbay.

Jim didn't stand a chance.