"It's lucky for me you had this thing," [Kirk commented, as he turned off the machine and then he more or less shoved McCoy back down to the ground by prodding the wound on his gut with his fingers, making sure it wasn't bleeding anymore. He did the same with the wounds on his arm after that, digging his fingers in as though to prove that he hadn't really healed McCoy.] "It really makes this much more poetic."

[Kirk finished poking and prodding the wounds and he tossed the machine off to the side, uncaring if it broke as he stood to his full height.]

"You owe me now, doctor. I just saved your life."