For Author's note and Disclaimer, see chapter 1
Chapter 9
As the shrill alarm rang Jim felt as if he had barely slept at all, he was exhausted. Spock had brought back with him a nagging concern for Bones whom he knew was not likely to ask for a reprieve even when he needed one. For all his talk about rotating everyone in sickbay to avoid anyone being exposed to the cold for any longer period of time, it seemed he was indeed not rotating himself.
Yawning, wishing he could have another five minutes, ten, maybe an hour of sleep, he threw his hands out in a stretch.
"Gawd dammit! Of all the insufferable cotton picking idjits!"
Half choking down a snort of laughter at the indignant cry, and the inventiveness and expressiveness of it Jim opened his mouth to apologise, then shrugged. "Morning Bones," he greeted cheerfully. It wasn't as if an apology was going to be in the slightest effective after all.
"You dawgon miserable wretch of a, a cotton picking idiot!" Bones sat up angrily, glaring at him and with a hand furiously rubbing at his face.
"Cotton picking?" Spock raised an eyebrow. "I fail to see the relevance to the situation, there is to my knowledge no cotton to pick aboard the Enterprise."
"An expression of displeasure in this case Spock," Jim hurried. "I'll explain it later if you want."
"And 'idjit'?" Spock queried. "I have not previously encountered that word, nor do I believe it is in the language bank. I have however noted on previous occasion that the doctor is under the misguided belief that several non-existent words do in fact exist."
"Oh, it exists alright!" Bones snapped as he crawled out of bed. "And you've got a prime example of one standing right in front of ya!"
"Captain?" Spock raised the usual querying eyebrow as he tried to find the seed of truth in the doctor's ranting.
"I would have to concede to Doctor McCoy on this one Spock," he grinned. "In this matter he has the right to be, irate…"
"I'll show you irate," the doctor growled angrily as he jerked up the uniform tunic from the chair. "Do that again and you'll see just how 'irate' I'll be."
"I promise it won't happen again," Jim tried to hold back the laughter as he watched the other man stalk into the bathroom.
"Most illogical," Spock shook his head to himself as he took a clean tunic shirt from his rapidly dwindling supply. "Human customs are indeed very strange."
"That they are Mr. Spock," Jim grinned. When McCoy came out of the bathroom and he moved to pass him he slung a comradery arm over his shoulder. "I promise I'll do my best Bones, it's not intentional, I swear it."
"Intentional or not, it's blasted annoying is what it is," the older man muttered as he headed for his small stack of clothes, taking the cleanest tunic there. They were all starting to run low, and he would have brought more if he had had any. Even if he had been able to go back to his cabin it wouldn't have done him any good as he was all out. He never had bothered to keep all that many of the tunics on hand. If one needed to be replaced, he replaced it. There was no need to fill up the drawers with the things when three or four at a time was usually all he needed.
The weak coffee and tasteless rations were not really good for ones mood, but he tried to pull himself together just the same. He had no right to take any of his irritation out on his head nurse. She was doing an admirable job of keeping the rest of the nursing staff in good spirit and order under the circumstances. Even stuck in sickbay with him she did not complain. He did send her away up to the mess when he could but suddenly they were a lot busier as tempers were growing shorter around the ship. Three times he had to deal with a number of bruised and slightly bloodied crewmen after they had all started fighting one another.
He patched them up enough to make sure they weren't going to suffer any permanent damage, while still feeling the effect of their foolishness for a few days. After a round with the hypo just to make sure he drew the lesson home, as well as the fact they were not suffering any vitamin deficiency, he called up to the bridge to let Jim know he could deal with them as he pleased. Whatever Spock had done with the ones from the day before seemed to have done the trick with those three at least.
"Coffee?" his nurse held out a mug to him as he watched the last one scurry out of sickbay and he gave an appreciative nod.
"When all this is over, you and I are going to have to try and detox of this stuff, my dear," he mused as she filled the mug to the brim. He wrapped cold aching fingers around the warm mug, at least not one of the ones coming through had had the courage to comment on the way they were dressed. Then again, after five minutes the lot of them had been shivering with teeth chattering so there was not really a lot they could have said about it.
"I'll worry about it then, not before," Chapel mused. "Until then, I'm going to take what comfort in it that I can."
"Wise choice," it might not do as much good as one would hope, but it was at least a small comfort in the matter, and he would keep an eye on their caffeine level. If it got too high, there were ways to neutralize it. He had the drugs and the medical expertise for it. Sighing and looking at the chronometre he rubbed a hand over his chin. His nurse had not said anything about the bruise he was sporting when he arrived. Jim certainly had packed a punch even if he knew it was unintentional. It was still getting old, and was a hell of a way to wake up every morning. "What's the chance of a quiet hour or two before we have the crew from security down?"
"Probably better the less we hope for it," she noted and he gave an amused snort. Wasn't that the truth.
"Alright, get yourself up to the mess, I won't say a word and maybe we'll be, well, less unlucky than usual."
"And what about you?" she demanded. "Were you planning on staying down here?"
"Someone has to mind the shop," he shrugged. They could not all go, someone had to be in place in case someone came in looking for them. Normally sickbay appeared to be the place where injured and sick crew went looking for medical aid. Given how long they had been on limited life supports he was expecting his first cases of the common cold to come in at any time. He had warned Jim it would likely happen, and that when it did they would have to rotate some of the crew around as well, to limit contamination as much as possible. "Besides," he added as his nurse did not look overly impressed. "I'm falling behind on my paperwork with all of this. If I have a minute for it now I had better get it out of the way." Taking up the blanket that had been lying on the biobed he kept a firm hold of his coffee and made for the small office.
"I'm not that cold, I could stay and keep you company," she offered and he didn't bother to fully hide his smile.
"It'll be a cold day in hell before I allow a lady to suffer unduly," he stated firmly though with a warm smile. "And while I do believe it's cold as the blue blazes and then some right now, hell it is not…"
"You know Doctor, sometimes I wish you were a little less of a gentleman, for your own sake," she shook his head.
"If I only have the one thing I can be proud of, I had better make sure to make it count," he sat down at the desk. "Now go on, I've got work to do, off you get," he insisted before she could reply to the first statement.
"I'll bring you back something hot," she promised, shaking her head. There were those of the crew who looked at the doctor and saw a gruff snappish exterior and not much more. Those would often ask her how she could stand to work so closely with the man and it was something she could not, and never really had tried to explain to them. Brilliant in his field, compassionate and absolutely devoted to everyone under his care, and yet for some reason he had so little faith in his own worth it was heartbreaking.
Now he only gave a soft grunt as he wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulder and turned his focus on the screen.
TBC
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