Title: Under Protest
Characters: McCoy, Spock, Kirk
Rating: K
Word Count: 150
Summary/Warning: No spoilers.
"All right, that's enough talk," McCoy drawled sternly. "To your quarters, Captain sir – and actually get more than two hours' sleep for the first time this week, 'kay?"
Caught 'at it again' (meaning working eight-hour shifts in Engineering after this last destructive space battle instead of sleeping; how could he, with his ship falling apart??), the Captain had been dragged to the Officers' Mess by Vulcan logic and what McCoy called old-fashioned Southern cussedness. A sandwich and juice later, he was being forcibly walked to his quarters.
"I'm just fine, Bones –"
"In a pig's eye," the physician snorted. "You're probably about to drop dead on your feet, Jim."
He favored McCoy with a defiant scowl. "What, exactly, gives you that idea, Doctor?"
Clunk.
"Possibly, Captain," on his other side came the cool voice belonging to the hand on his arm, "the fact that you just ambulated into a bulkhead?"