Sickbay -- Day 10, evening [backdated & private/finished]

[my_god_man]

It was on the late side for the CMO to be working away in Sickbay. Even better, it was supposed to be Leonard's day off. But leave it to an underling -- Anderson, specifically, again -- to royally fuck up something as simple as a growth culture. Except this culture -- synthflesh for grafting purposes -- was anything but simple. And his

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[transwarp_beam]

He'd be honest: as a rule, doctors weren't his favourite people. And the Enterprise's CMO had one hell of a reputation. But unfortunately, no Starfleet officer could be cleared for duty without a physical. He'd put it off until he couldn't any more. If there was an emergency during tomorrow's mission - however unlikely that seemed - he wanted to be able to do his bit.

He was surprised to hear someone singing in the medbay as he approached and even more surprised to see who it was coming from. For all his fearsome growling, the good Doctor had quite the singing voice.

Scotty cleared his throat as tactfully as possible.

[my_god_man]

Leonard liked the song he was singing in part because it reminded him of Jo. Back when life was a little more sane, with a wife and kid by his side, he used to sing to his little girl every night. And often in the mornings. And sometimes over a transmission, when she was being sassy with her mother...

Ah hell, it was easier to say that their native tongue to each other had been music.

Well, anyway, this song had been one that Joanna liked sleeping to best. It was a nice evening song, full of promises. It conjured images in his mind of beautiful strawberry blond hair and dark blue eyes. So it was something of a surprise to hear a noise behind him, turn without thinking and find.... well, a blond-haired, blue-eyed man looking at him as if he were speaking in another sort of tongue

[transwarp_beam]

"Oh, no." Scotty paused, thinking over the truth of that statement. "Well, not today. Well. Nothing bad enough to be needin' a trip to sickbay anyway. No..." he gave a sheepish little grin, "Actually, I'm apparently meant to be getting a physical of some sort. Cleared for active duty and all that."

[my_god_man]

"Well, that'd be a first," he muttered back, then regretted it. The man looked like a yellow lab pup who'd been caught with a favorite sneaker. This wasn't Anderson, after all. "More than 'apparently'," McCoy sighed, then smirked. "You're cutting it a bit close, though. We're heading off to mission tomorrow mornin'. What kept you?" He thought he already knew the answer, but he liked to make them squirm some. Besides, the Scotsman made interesting noises when put on the spot.

[transwarp_beam]

"You all looked so busy every time I came past," he said, with an innocent smile which he was perfectly aware fooled no-one. If Medical were busy it was generally due to Engineering's cavalier attitude to basic health and safety. Scotty sobered, getting to business. "I know I cannae be cleared for duty 'til I've had this physical done. An' if something goes wrong tomorrow..." he shrugged; "Going to want all hands on deck, aye? Better safe than sorry."

[my_god_man]

Well, no interesting noises yet but the man was certainly trying to charm. Obviously he wasn't acquainted with McCoy's bullshit filter. "Uh-huh. Well, not so busy that we can't squeeze in one more engineer." It'd been -- what, 5 or 7? -- in the first week and a half. He suspected they were just warming up

[transwarp_beam]

"On a first date? You work fast, doctor." He'd been told his lack of a brain/mouth filter was something of a character flaw. He preferred to think of it as an endearing quirk.

Joking aside, though, he wanted this physical over with. He toed his boots off and shrugged out of his overalls, letting them pool around his ankles. Underneath he was in a vague approximation of Starfleet uniform. He was more than pleased to shed that damn red shirt. There was a good reason he consistently wore overalls.

Finally clad only in his boxers (if he'd anticipated the infirmary trip he wouldn't have worn the pair with Nessie on them) he hopped up onto the biobed and sat indian-style, elbows resting on his knees and hands folded in front of him, looking expectantly at the doctor.

[my_god_man]

McCoy had been leaning over a sterilite unit that seemed to be shorting out, fiddling with it, when Scott replied. He paused, head coming up a little and blinking. He didn't know much about the chief, only meant him a few times in passing. Was sure he'd heard that wrong. It was on the late side.

Well, whatever. Nothing to be done about that unit, so McCoy moved onto another to sterilize his hands. Place was good enough, might as well get this physical over with. Turning around, he had another moment's pause. The chief was sitting all self-contained on the bed, happy as a clam, in... amusing underpants. Leonard couldn't suppress a smirk. Managed not to comment, though, as this was professional. "Please lay back on the bed." As the man complied, he came over to adjust the settings. The biobed automatically came to life, whirls and beeps greeting the two of them. McCoy picked up a PADD from an adjacent workstation and sorted through the crew's medical files until he found Scott's

[transwarp_beam]

"Aye, weren't any medical staff on Delta Vega," he agreed. Just me and a little green fellow of indeterminate species. Christ, when had his last physical been? Must have been when he was teaching at the Academy - at least a year. "Nothing much to add. Few bumps and bruises, the odd cut or burn. Nothing the first aid kit couldn't take care of." Well, with the help of a little medicinal alcohol, and on one memorable occasion, some scaffolding.

He felt disconcertingly exposed, lying there in the bright white lights in nothing but his skivvies. At least it was warm. He'd almost forgotten what 'warm' felt like.

[my_god_man]

"Delta Vega?" Leonard looked up from the PADD he'd been punching information into, fingers flying with easy dexterity. Oh yeah, he remembered Jim talking about his time in exile. Mostly his thoughts had been focused on the bits about the late-model Spock. But Scott had been the other man there. "Any instances of hypothermia, frostbite, chilblains or snow blindness? How about general sensitivity to temperature fluctuations?"

Half-listening, McCoy's eyes wandered over Scott's physique. He was checking for obvious long-term cold damage, but he couldn't help noticing the man looked a little... small. Definitely underfed. It was a bit unexpected. He supposed it was all them layers of clothing by his feet. It certainly explained why the man was always on a sandwich about as fast as Jim was on a make. Privately amused by the comparison, Leonard smirked absently as he continued to visually catalog. His fingers skittered over the PADD, listening to what the man was telling them.

[transwarp_beam]

"Hypothermia," he said, a shiver passing through him at the mere memory. He'd never known cold like that. "Once. Right after I got there, before I learned to wrap up proper. Took me about a week to find the supply room with the winter clothes in it - didn't have any problems after that."

He scratched the back of his head absently. It was still strange sitting near-naked and not feeling like his toes were about to drop off from the cold. He couldn't help but let his gaze wander. Medical was certainly full of interestingly shiny new equipment; his fingers itched with the urge to take it apart and see how it worked.

[my_god_man]

He caught that shiver. It brought his eyes back up to Scott's face. Medical school taught that doctors were to be objective and removed from their patients. Leonard remembered how his brother Davy was treated, though, in the days before he finally wasted away to nothing. The whole point of becoming a doctor had been to make sure it was done right. McCoy made note of the hypothermia in the edited file, then punched in the code to activate the biobed's heating unit. Just enough to reassure the man

[transwarp_beam]

With heat radiating from the biobed, it was tempting to sink back into it and never move again. He did as he was told, though, and sat up. Was the Medbay warmer than the rest of the ship? It certainly felt that way. It would make sense for it to be warm if people were going to be getting naked. He'd have a look at the environmental controls later to satisfy his curiosity.

"Don't remember much of it," he admitted. "Keenser - the other 'Fleet officer on the outpost - told me I'd stopped shivering though. That's bad, right? Was pretty nasty. Felt like the drunkest I'd ever been and then some." Not the fun kind of drunk either. More like the kind where you're too far gone to even remember how much you've had, and have no idea what's going on aside from the nebulous but overwhelming conviction that you've made a horrible mistake. "Was a good while after the pneumonia, though...maybe a year? Doesn't seem to have been any lasting damage."

[my_god_man]

Keenser? McCoy wasn't familiar with that name, so he called up a secondary window for another medfile. Got a strange-looking fellow on his screen. Well, that was par for the course in Starfleet. But McCoy had never been down in Engineering -- they'd been so kind to drag their burnt and bloodied selves up to him -- so this guy was stranger still. He made a few notes in Scott's file about the little dude, then got back to the subject at hand. Or on the bed, in this case.

"Yeah, that is pretty bad, Chief," he frowned in concern, studying Scott's body anew. "How'd ya get yourself back to rights? Have you noticed any lack of nerve sensation or coordination since then?" Bypassing his own question, McCoy held out a hand expectantly. "Gimme your arm, I wanna try a test. Tell me what you feel when you feel it." He then proceeded to skim his fingers along the underside of Scott's arm. It was barely a touch at first, but with each successive stroke he applied more contact.

[transwarp_beam]

"Can feel it fine," he said, glancing down at where the doctor was touching his arm. "Get dizzy sometimes, but that's been since before Delta Vega. Not sure how exactly Keenser got me fixed up..." he frowned, thinking. "I remember waking up in a pile of blankets, next to some kinda jury-rigged heating unit."

Scotty squirmed a little, uncomfortable. The angle his arm was held out as was putting unpleasant pressure on his bad shoulder. He shifted discreetly to try and ease the ache.

[my_god_man]

McCoy's brow climbed for his hairline this time. It couldn't be helped. One mention of jury-rigged anything from an engineer was something a doctor would be regretting for some time. "My god, it's a miracle yer alive then." He blinked down at the arm he still had captive, almost regarding the owner as the luckiest man in the galaxy