Not my usual thing, but I had to play after seeing that scene on the planetoid. McCoy flirting (or attempting to) is just too cute.

The laceration was seeping steadily, painting a scarlet trail down wrist and along her pale forearm. As a weapons specialist she was not unaccustomed to wounds; on the contrary, maximum damage potential in a minimal mass and volume was an aim when developing weaponry for a first-class ship like the Enterprise.

That didn't mean that injuries didn't bother her. She had seen enough to last a lifetime, as had most, if not all, of the men and women aboard the ship. Experiences like that scarred people.

And yeah, it was stinging pretty badly.

She was patiently waiting for a member of the medical crew to treat her, perched on the side of a biobed, arm held upright. They had been en route to a small planet with a single basic Federation outpost to explore the possibilities of further integration with the native people. That is, until an ion storm hit unexpectedly. There was a reason integration of a relatively fragile species like humans was difficult there, she now realised.

The engineering crew managed to regain semblance of the vessel within several minutes, but that was enough time for a group of nine science division ensigns not far from her lab to sustain chemical burns, requiring immediate attention.

Meanwhile, she had crashed to the ground whilst picking apart the circuitry of a small Klingon made projectile. The scalpel she had been using to sever the wires had caught the top of her hand as she fell.

A frazzled looking nurse arrived to clean up the excess blood and sterilise the surrounding skin. He was putting down a dermal regenerator and suturing kit for her hand when Dr McCoy came up behind him. "That's alright, Daniel, I'll take care of the doctor here. Take a break, you look like you need it."

"Thanks, Doc."

"You look like you could use some time off yourself." She commented pleasantly.

"I could use a few weeks off, but we don't always get what we want do we?" he groused under his breath.

She only grinned in response as he began to pass the dermal regenerator over her hand in steady even strokes.

She had understood quickly that his playful innuendos whilst disarming the torpedo when they had initially met were only to get underneath Captain Kirk's skin. She still felt slightly uncomfortable with the knowledge that Jim Kirk could possibly hold the early stages of feelings for her. She had forged her way on to the Enterprise with only her father's suspicious behaviour in mind. She was pulled out of her reverie as Dr McCoy began to expertly stitch the remaining gaps of her damaged skin back together. The sutures were miniscule and even, the transparency of the thread and the wonders of the regenerator masking the evidence of treatment. He worked deftly and smoothly, oblivious to her scrutiny and the hair hanging over his forehead.

He straightened up and his facial muscles relaxed. "There we go, as good as new. Don't go tearin' up my fine work, d'you hear?"

"I'll try not to but I can't make any promises." She straightened her arm, gingerly moving her fingers. "I suppose they were right." She mused.

He frowned in confusion as he filled in an incident report on her medical file. She clarified, "About your hands being legendary; I didn't feel a thing."

His stylus paused, long fingers gently hovering it above the surface of the screen.

"Well. That depends entirely on what it is my hands are doing," he replied in a low voice.

She looked at him, the weight of the statement landing heavily in her stomach, wondering if he meant what she thought he had. Like, that.

He looked back up, face betraying nothing. "Take our illustrious Captain, for example." He gestured with the stylus, "If I have to give him one more damn nutrient hypo, I'll make sure that he can still feel it for days to come. Then he'll understand that I don't kid when I say man cannot survive on pizza and coffee alone."

His face took on the now familiar expression of pure exasperation that it often did when James T Kirk was involved. So perhaps he hadn't meant it like that at all. Get a grip, Carol. She slid off of the biobed and thanked him before turning to leave. As she was about to get out of hearing distance she heard:

"If you need any more delicate treatment, then I'm just a comm away."

Sooooo…. What do you guys think? Please review :)