Physical

Date: 2011-08-23 09:33 pm (UTC)
It was something of a tradition for anyone above a commander to avoid their yearly physical like the plague. By the time they reached the admiralty, they were nigh-impossible to pin down, and so Kate Pulaski, on a six-month stint at Starfleet Medical before her next relief mission, spent a lot of time waiting impatiently, or chasing admirals and their aides, or sending them irate messages threatening medical discharge if they didn't get their asses to the Infirmary pronto.

So she was surprised to see Alynna Nechayev, widely regarded as one of the most admiral-ish admirals around, turning up two minutes early for her scheduled physical, without a word of complaint or any attempt at evasion.

'You're very prompt, Admiral,' she said, suspiciously.

Alynna looked innocently at her. 'My dear Katherine, when have you ever known me to be anything else? Starfleet relies on the efficiency and reliability of its officers. Case in point, I have thirty minutes to make love to you before my next meeting. Now, where do you want me?'

And without another word, she began to take off her clothes.

Thirty-two minutes later, Kate looked over the tick-chart. Active heart rate was well within parameters. She ticked that box. The rest would have to wait.
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