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I've looked a lot worse before, and lookin' like a disaster seems to be an improvement.

Not really the greeting I would have liked.

Awww. You say that to all the boys, don't you.

I guess I should be grateful that's not technically a metaphor.

You're exaggerating.

Again.

Do you think I give a damn how rough and tumble you are? My business is how y'look now. C'mere, let me have a look at you. And before you start howling, I am a lisenced doctor.

[ just not, you know, a particularly friendly one. no lollypops at the end of this check up, no sir. ]

Then maybe you shouldn't have gotten yourself banged up like it was your job. [ ushering (read: dragging) her onto one of the beds. ] Coulda' told me you were transferring too. Little courtesy will go a long way.

Edited 2013-06-05 19:52 (UTC)

Get on the bed before I get out the sedatives, Jim.

Tell y'what: I'll wax poetic about what an idiot you are after I'm done setting your arm.

[ Mal was used to surly doctors, well maybe Simon was a little too good to his crew. Mal reached up to rub the lump that's his nose, and he winced, and the black eye he got when he got in a very healthy brawl. ] I ain't worried about you bein' licensed, I'm a lot more worried about you keepin' that flap of yours shut.

Will I be unconscious for that?

I wasn't expecting to be on the field either, Doctor. [ She sighs good-naturedly and lets him hustle her into a sitting position. It's just a bruise and a cut on her arm. ]

You miss me that badly, huh?

In your opinion, maybe. 'course, anything short of you coming back a corpse'd be exaggerating in your opinion.

Now that's just not true. I'd concede for a lost limb. I don't have to be dead.

Buuuut as all my limbs are in tact and I can walk. You, my dear Bones, are exaggerating. [Oooor maybe Jem's just a big old baby when it comes to the infirmary.]

It's just a scratch.

[ _{it's not just a scratch.} ]

Honest.

[ _{irritated huff} ] C'mon, Bones. Can we just skip the whole.. indeterminate injections part?

[ no point in being offended, 'cause he was right. not that she'd managed a look at herself since she and the doctor, her doctor, returned, but she felt like a disaster. ] Worst of it seems t'be my wrist. [ which, considering her worked over appearance, was a pretty light issue. ]

Edited 2013-06-05 21:48 (UTC)

That's a wee bit harsh [Says the man covered in soot and smelling like burnt plastic. In his defense, it's mostly superficial. He only has a couple of actual burns]

A technical term, Doctor?

[This is not an expression of mild amusement. Nope.]

Yeah, well. [ There's a grunt as he tries to get up on the biobed, bracing himself with his good hand before pulling up, hissing at the movement to his dislocated shoulder. ] You should see the other guy. [ He's showing off a pretty decent shiner, and there's a cut on his lip that's bloodied the front of his uniform. ]

No, technically you look like a bruised avocado. [ an aggravated sigh. ] Shut up and sit down, Spock. Try, and I know this is difficult for you, but try not to make my job any harder than it already is.

I had no intention of doing so Doctor. [Except he did, because he likes driving you up the wall.] Attempting to resist medical care in my current state would be illogical.

[AND WE LEAVE THAT TO KIRK.]

Did you know you're the captain of a starship? In layman's terms, the face of Starfleet? Does it occur to you, [ loading up a hypo with 20 ccs of an anaesthetic. ] --that you're a moron? [ and jamming that into the side of Kirk's arm. yup, you're very welcome. ]

Hold still. This ain't gonna be pretty. [ a sharp intake of breath and he's grabbing Jim's arm, and in one, powerful motion, pushing the limb back into the socket. the numbing agent works fast, but even that's not enough to cancel out all the pain that comes with popping a joint back into place. ] There. That feel alright to you now?

Oh and we know how much you like logic. [ grabbing a scanner from the tray and running it over Spock. ] How the hell did you go about doing this? Looks like you got into a fistfight with a pack of wild sehlats and lost. Oh for cryin' out loud, [ dropping his scanner on the table and pinching the bridge of his nose. ]

Blasted thing's more useless than a space heater on fire in the middle of a Georgian summer. I've got no idea how that weirdo half-Vulcan physiology of yours works; can't tell if your vitals are off if I don't know the baseline. Where the hell's M'Benga when you need 'im?

Actually, I think it's pretty accurate. Great as you may be at engineering, you gotta find yourself a less dangerous hobby to tinker away at when you're off shift. Doctor's orders.

I'll be the judge of that. [ ushering her into a chair and breaking out a sleek looking medical kit. ] How th'hell do you people end up doing things like this to yourselves? Takes some talent to come out of something banged up this bad and still breathing, let alone on your feet.

[ breaking out the scanner, waving it over her. looks like she was right about the wrist thing, though there were some other minor things for McCoy to ~~completely overreact~~ tend to as well. ]