Yup. I know. I own a calendar. But I have a sweet one for ya. Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Chekov and McCoy
Everyone aboard the Enterprise knew that Chekov, Pavel Andreivich, was not a coward.
At fourteen he had moved away from his family to join Starfleet. At seventeen he navigated one of the biggest crisis Starfleet had seen in years, and not only did he do his job, he helped save Earth. At eighteen he rigged a bomb to explode so he and Captain Kirk could evade capture. Pavel Chekov was anything but a coward.
However, no one could fault him if Leonard 'Bones' McCoy scared the living shit out of him.
Chekov knew, deep in his heart, that Doctor McCoy would never do anything to actually harm him. In fact, there were many times when the doctor was downright lovable to him. (In that grumpy way he had, where loveable equated to frowning less intensely at him while fighting back a smile.)
Chekov knew that Doctor McCoy was actually very fond of him, and after a few bumpy starts and misunderstandings, Chekov had, in turn, become fond of the doctor as well. They were friends, in that weird, growly way that Doctor McCoy made friends.
So when Chekov was towed down to sickbay by Jim and Hikaru after going the whole alpha shift with a ragging fever, he was rightfully terrified.
McCoy was going to skin him alive.
Nurse Chapel took one look at the three of them, asked how long he had been experiencing symptoms, and then upon hearing his answer, clucked her tongue and walked away as if to say 'Good luck!'
Chekov knew he needed more than luck.
He was about to be scolded by the man who had been known to make decorated Starfleet Admirals tremble.
McCoy growled when he saw them.
"What did you three idiots do this time?" he asked darkly as he began waving his tricorder back and forth in front on Pavel's face.
Hikaru immediately took a large step backwards as if to distance himself from any possible blame while Jim's face pulled into a hurt pout. "Bones, we didn't do anything. Why would you ever think we would do something that would cause us to get hurt? The kid's just sick."
"Why indeed," Pavel heard the doctor grumble under his breath. "So," his patented doctor scowl fixed itself on Chekov. "Why is it that you're only coming to me after alpha shift is over?"
Chekov just blinked. His head hurt, his stomach was beginning to protest his meager breakfast, and Doctor McCoy was starting to look blurry.
"Goddammit, Jim!" he heard the doctor say as hands were forcing him to lay backwards onto the bio bed. "What were you thinking letting him work like this?"
"Like what? He was fine an hour ago, maybe a little quiet, but how was I supposed to know that meant he was sick?"
"Maybe because the kid never stops talking at a mile a minute? And his flushed face would've been a good clue, too."
"Don't look at me! All I see is the kid's back all day. Blame Sulu!"
Chekov, whose eyes were closed now because the sickbay was spiraling most unnervingly, could imagine the doctor spinning to glare at the pilot, who, in turn, would be glaring at his captain.
"I was aware that Pavel was looking a bit off," Hikaru bit out stiffly, no doubt sending Jim a death look the whole time. "I asked him if he wanted to go get treatment, but he refused. He didn't start to look real bad until the very end of the shift. That's why we brought him down."
"Idiots," McCoy growled, and Pavel felt cool hands placing themselves on his forehead and neck. "Get out of here before I dose you up with the Royalian Pox vaccine again!"
Considering how awful he remembered that experience being, Pavel wasn't all the surprised when the sickbay was a lot quieter really fast.
"A Russian genius," he heard McCoy grumble. "Genius my ass." Pavel felt a hand at his wrist. "Idiot."
Suddenly, his stomach flipped and his eyes snapped open, one hand going to his mouth, the other to his stomach. "Doctor!"
McCoy had a basin in front of his face in no time, helping to support him by a strong arm around his shoulders as Pavel heaved. When he was done, McCoy helped him lay back down, which would have been difficult on his own because he was trembling so much.
"I am sorry I did not come sooner," Pavel told him, watching as the doctor gently pressed a hypo against his neck. "I zought it was nothing."
"Leave the hero complex to Jim, kid," McCoy told him, his tone gentle despite his scolding words and frowning face. "He does it better. And the next time you feel bad, just come and see me, okay?"
"Yes, sir," Chekov mumbled, his eyes closing as the sedative McCoy must have given him began to kick in. "Zank you."
Pavel was sure he imagined the feel of a hand pushing back his curls as he drifted off.
"Don't worry about it, kid."
Leonard McCoy terrified Chekov. But it was mostly just an act. He knew the doctor wasn't as mean as he tried to be, and McCoy knew the kid wasn't as scared as he pretended to be. It was how their relationship worked. Get hurt, yell, cower with fear, repeat. McCoy loved the kid like his own, and Chekov knew he could always rely on the grumpy doctor.
That didn't mean that come morning the next day, Chekov (looking much healthier), wasn't scolded by McCoy like there was no tomorrow, being called an idiot through the use of three different metaphors, and being promised that if he was ever seen in sickbay again, his privates would not be happy with him.
Chekov just thanked the doctor again and scurried out of sickbay, smiling at the way McCoy's frown was negated by the warm look in his eyes.
Awwwwww! Isn't it cute! This is in response to a comment that I got about Chekov not having to be so scared of Bones. He's not. Well, not anymore. Okay, he is (who isn't?), but he's learned how to decipher it.
Let me know what you think!