A/N: As always, thanks to sherlockian-of-the-shire on tumblr for editing!

It was after yet another harrowing mission where Kirk and Spock had been stranded on a hostile planet for twenty-four hours because of just another transporter malfunction- if you asked Bones, he'd say the Enterprise gets into more trouble than a tribble has kids- and the Chief Medical Officer was more than a little ticked at his COs.

"Dammit Jim! Just because I happen to be the only doctor on board who knows what your allergies are doesn't mean you need to exploit me!" Bones exploded. This was the fifth time in as many weeks that he had had to do surgery on his Captain, and he was over it. Spock wasn't much better.

"Doctor, regardless of your confidence in your dubiously attained abilities, there is no one else the Captain-"

"Shut up, Spock! You're just as bad as Jim over here! Darn Vulcan mumbo-jumbo can't save your ass every time, and guess who's saving it then!"

"Bones-" Jim loved both his friends, but right now his head was trying to pound out of his skull and their little altercation wasn't helping at all.

"Shut it. I don't want a single word from either of you for the next four hours. I hear anything, and you'll be off duty and confined in Sickbay for twice as long as your injuries technically require."

"Such an act would constitute malpractice, Doctor."

"Not if I can get Chapel to verify it, it won't."

Jim chuckled. "Alright, Bones, we get the picture. Go sleep- heaven knows you need it after the miracles you worked on our away party. We promise to behave."

"Fine, kid," Bones grumbled, walking out of the room. "But Chapel will be in here every hour, and she can be scarier than me with a hypo when she wants to be, so don't move."

Jim mock-saluted. "Aye, aye, sir!"

"Affirmative, Doctor."

Kirk smiled at Spock. /It's a good thing he forgot that were bonded, ashaya./

/Indeed, t'hy'la. We are most fortunate that he put us in the same room,/ Spock responded, a slight nod the only outward indication of communication.

Jim chuckled mentally. /What do you suggest we do to pass the time until the sedatives we put in Chapel's coffee kick in?/

/We have a multitude of options; however, I do believe the good Doctor has constrained us somewhat. He did not, however, mention.../

*the next morning*

"Dammit, Jim! You and your green-blooded hobgoblin of a bondmate are officially dead when I find you!" Some days, Bones hated his job. Just a little bit.