Steady as she goes.

Jim lets herself into Bones' quarters, because she's massively cool and Captainly like that.

And then turns around to face him, all smuglike. "Welcome home, Bones."

If she were grading dungeons, this would would get a seven out of ten, she figured. Points for mold, freezing temperatures, dampness, and truly impressive chains, but points off for lack of monitoring ability and the ease with which she picked the lock on the chain. Admittedly, with the help of a slightly illegal device hidden somewhere you really don't want to know about, but.

And also the smallest, most ridiculously collapsible pattern enhancers in the history of ever that really, Scotty needed to win a lot of prizes for. Her communicator had been removed, but once the transporter chief got a lock on the signal they were broadcasting, he'd know it was safe to start beaming a security team down. Spock hadn't particularly wanted her going in to set them up, but she'd overruled his objections. If anyone was going to purposefully get themselves in trouble, it should be her, not her crew, she'd argued, and when that hadn't worked, she'd taken the initiative to go ahead with it anyway.

He'd probably make understated Vulcan pissy faces, it'll be great.

While she waited for the first of the team to arrive, she stepped back and composed herself in an attempt to look more in control and slightly less like someone who was thrown in a dungeon.

Jim's learned several nifty things about her PINpoint while she was confined to quarters. One is that yes, she could program in coordinates for transportation, and managed to test it on a few inanimate objects with 100% success rate. She wasn't sure yet if she wanted to use it on herself - she didn't have anything against transporters, unlike Bones, but she wasn't sure she trusted it solely to a device she could hold in the palm of her hand.

Another was that, in addition to sending text communication to other PINpoints, you could send cartoon faces for emphasis of emotions. After an hour of lying on her bed staring at the ceiling ensuing a dream - she refused to consider them nightmares, just slightly troubling constructs of her mind that sometimes wouldn't go away afterwards - after that, she found herself reaching for her PINpoint and selecting an appropriately hopeful, sad, and above all pathetic face to send to Bones with her text.

Pax?

Luckily, it was morning already for Bones' shift, or that might have hurt her case more than helped it.

Tests couldn't go on forever. It's just one of those facts, along with 'Bones has to slow down sometime' and 'Jim will go stir-crazy if she's kept in this bed for any longer'. Eventually, she had to get tired of texting the Nexus and spying on the Rec Room. She's been good for long enough; now it's time to let Bones know he needed to wrap this up.

And she even kindly let him know this by the subtle method of sitting up again. Wasn't he glad she didn't choose anything more disruptive?

True to her word, Jim is waiting in transporter room three for Bones, bouncing lightly on her heels as she waits for him to hurry up and arrive. There's a couple security personnel in place on the transporter already - her grudging offering to Spock's Eyebrow of Doom. She has zero expectations of needing them, and possibly a few plans for losing them. This is Bones and Jim time, you see, not Bones, Jim, and Some Other People.

She may be wearing the skirt uniform today. Despite years of affiliation with Starfleet, the planet's inhabitants still haven't quite gotten used to the whole 'women in pants' thing, and the current policy on this topic is more or less 'just go with it'.