#Spock voice how is she holding that tricorder | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

obscure-reference-girl · 2 years ago

Text

Masks and Misunderstandings Chapter 4

Pairing: Pavel Chekov/Leonard McCoy

Warnings: Swearing (because it’s Bones), mild description of injury/medical procedure

Word Count: 4197

Summary: Leonard thought that a nightclub where you had to wear a mask was idiotic, but he humored Jim and accompanied him to the club during shore leave anyway. After Jim fucked off into the crowd of dancing bodies without so much as a ‘never you mind’, Leonard went looking for him and found something unexpected. Meet unexpected: sexy, young, blonde...and if he reminded him a bit too much of a certain Russian navigator he wasn't going to linger on that thought.

Chapter Summary: Leonard finally learns the identity of the man from the club (cue gasps of shock I’m sure).

Author’s note: If you have made it this far, I would love to hear what you think! Ideas? Things that you would like to see happen? Drop me a line! Comments always provide the best inspiration.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45899593/chapters/116373964#workskin

The day of his STI test Leonard was scheduled for a night shift and he had arranged with Christine to have his test run just before the start of his shift. This left plenty of time to work himself up over the fact that he had behaved like a crazed teenager. By the time that Leonard made his way to the medbay that evening, he had worked his mind into a perfect storm of self-loathing. When he entered medbay he wasted no time, gave Christine a meaningful look, and jerked his head towards his office. She followed him in, closing the door behind them. Before Leonard knew it, she had drawn his blood and it was being analyzed by a tricorder. Unfortunately this left him with Christine’s undivided and inconveniently observant attention.

“You sure you still don’t want to talk Len?” She asked.

“I’m sure,” He began. She gave him one of her signature ‘I wasn’t born yesterday’ looks and Len felt himself continuing against his better judgement, “Ah hell, I don’t know Chrissy…” He trailed off, not able to make himself complete the thought.

“You’ve been extra broody lately.” She said.

“Christine,” He exclaimed in offense, “I don’t brood.”

“Oh yes you do Leonard McCoy, you brood almost as badly as Mister Spock.”

“Now, there’s no need to be hateful.” That got a laugh out of her and he couldn’t help but smile himself. “I guess being alone is just getting to me. I just can’t get this guy out my head. It doesn’t help that Pavel-” he broke off, realizing what he had been about to say. Christine’s carefully shaped eyebrows shot halfway up her forehead.

“What exactly about Mr. Chekov,” She asked rather delicately.

“He reminds me of the guy, okay?” Leonard winced, unable to meet her eyes.

“And you’re sure he isn’t the guy?” She pressed.

“Of course I’m sure. There’s no way that he would ever do that with-with me.” He spluttered.

“Why are so sure about that Leonard?” She insisted.

“I just am.” He said with a stubborn jut of his chin. Christine raised her hands in defeat though she appeared unconvinced. The tricorder must have decided to take pity on him because it beeped at that very moment. Christine quickly assessed the read-out and gave him a smile.

“All clear Len,” she said.

He finally let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Thanks Chris-“

He would have to be satisfied that she knew how deeply he appreciated her because the comm blared overhead before he could give her a proper thank you.

“Engineering to medical!” Scotty’s voice came ringing through the room accompanied by the sound of an alarm and what sounded suspiciously like hissing steam. Leonard held down the button on the comm panel on his wall to respond.

“Medical here Mr. Scott.”

“We have one for emergency medical transfer.” Well at least that was sure to get his mind of off things.

“Standing by,” He replied and he and Christine ran out to the central medbay and started to scrub in.

***

Leonard had just finished scrubbing in when the transporter began to materialize a figure onto the designated biobed. And because the universe had one fucked up sense of humor, it was Chekov. He was even paler than normal and breathing with great focus like he was trying his damndest not to pass out. Len felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

“What’s the damage Mr. Chekov?” Len asked as he started to assess Pavel’s injuries. There were small pieces of shrapnel scattered up his left leg with a few larger pieces lodged in his abdomen. Leonard whipped out a tricorder and started locating the worst of it while Christine cut away Pavel’s pants leg.

“Chyort voz’mi, Len, I’m a navigator, not a doctor,” was his tight-lipped reply. Leonard laughed in spite of himself. He knew that Chekov was mocking him. He recognized the Russian version of Damnit.

“You know damn well what I mean. What happened?” Leonard groused.

“I got into a fight with an exploding conduit,” Pavel said with a small shrug that was followed by a grimace of pain.

“Let me guess, the conduit won,” Leonard replied dryly. The tricorder informed him that Pavel had been very lucky and the shrapnel hadn’t hit anything too major. It looked like the worst of the damage was a punctured spleen.

“You could say that,” Pavel winced as Christine removed a piece of shrapnel from his leg, quickly running a dermal regenerator behind it.

“If Jim isn’t the death of me, I think it’s going to be you.” Leonard said witheringly. “Experimental engineering,” he continued under his breath, “experimental limb removal is more accurate.” He raised his voice back to its normal level and looked up to give pavel a sympathetic smile. “I’m going to have to cut this shirt off of you.”

Pavel nodded sharply. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips were a thin white line.

“Give him a hypo for the pain,” Len told Christine. He let her handle that while he sliced away Pavel’s uniform. “It looks like this is the worst of it.” He said, referencing the large piece of shrapnel in Pavel’s upper left side. “A punctured spleen, nothing I can’t handle. Gonna’ hurt like a bitch though.” Christine had given Pavel the hypo but it wouldn’t work fast enough to completely mask the feeling of a large piece of metal being removed from an internal organ. Pavel nodded again and braced himself.

“On three,” Leonard said. “Three, two-“He pulled out the shrapnel on “two” and quickly pressed down on the wound with a wad of sterile gauze while he ran a dermal regenerator around the site.

Chekov let loose a long string of Russian swearing. Despite being the youngest member of the crew Chekov was one of the most advanced in the field of creative swearing. He was proficient in the several languages he spoke including Vulcan and Standard, but he was particularly adept at stringing together phrases in Russian that could make even the captain blush (naturally, because he was a fucking genius, Jim happened to speak Russian-as he put it ‘enough to fuck or fight with’). Leonard, being only a simpleminded surgeon, did not speak Russian. However, he’d spent enough time around Chekov to pick out several of his favorite key words including ‘Sooka Sin’, and ‘Blyat’, which meant ‘Son of a bitch’, and an equivalent to ‘fuck’, respectively. He was also pretty sure he caught something that roughly translated to “train station whore”. Leonard couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It’s better if you don’t expect it,” He explained.

“You can’t really believe that,” Chekov said incredulously.

“Well yeah, it really doesn’t make a lick of difference, but it can’t hurt to try. That should be the worst of it though.” Leonard offered. Now that the only life threatening injury was dealt with, he could take a deeper look at the tricorder results. “It looks like you might have a few broken ribs from the explosive force, and a fractured talus from where you hit the wall.”

“I broke my foot?” Pavel asked.

“Technically you broke your ankle…and your elbow. You fractured your proximal radial head. You’ll have to stay overnight while they heal. But hey, think of it this way, it’s a hell of a lot better than a hundred and fifty years ago when you would have been in a sling for a month.” Leonard said. He felt strongly that the general population didn’t appreciate just how lucky they were to have modern medical science.

“You’ll have me back in engineering in no time doctor.” The pain killers were obviously kicking in and Pavel was relaxing back into the biobed. He was getting a bit of color back in his face and his voice wasn’t quite so tight.

“I have half a mind to tell Scotty not to let you back in.” Len scolded.

“Da,” Pavel replied, slipping temporarily into Russian, “but you know he wouldn’t listen to you. He likes me too much.”

Leonard shook his head, torn between exasperation and amusement. He turned to Pavel’s chest to work on removing the last few fragments and froze. He blinked quickly several times. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him because his memory was dredging up the same lean torso with those exact moles and just that smattering of freckles, glistening with sweat not from pain, but from exertion, strobe lights beating off of it.

“Is everything okay, doctor,” Pavel asked. He placed a hand on top of the one Leonard currently had resting on his chest. A hand with those slim, strong fingers that had- fuck.

“Of-of course lieutenant,” Leonard shakily replied. “I think Nurse Chapel can take it from here.” Len didn’t give him a chance to respond. He turned quickly and did his best to walk, not run, back to his office where he promptly threw up in the sink.

He rinsed out his mouth and collapsed into his desk chair, digging his fingers into his scalp. He didn’t even know where to start. He had had sex with Pavel Andreievich Chekov. No, no, he’d fucked Pavel Chekov. He had roughly fucked the youngest member of the crew the dark hallway of a nightclub. Pavel was only nineteen for fucks sake. To make matters worse, Leonard had also been fantasizing of, dreaming about, and masturbating to thoughts of said teenager for two fucking weeks.

He didn’t know what to feel. (Actually he did - he felt like a fucking dirty old pervert.) He didn’t know what to think. He should have recognized Chekov. He had noticed all of the similarities. Why hadn’t he listened to the part of his brain that had been functioning with common sense?

Ultimately it came down to the fact that he had picked Chekov up at a club and fucked him senseless.

Except he hadn’t picked up Pavel, had he? Pavel had picked up Leonard!

This, of course, begged the question: was this something Pavel did regularly? The thought made Leonard sick. And if that wasn’t just fucking hypocritical. It’s not like he had any room to judge. He had only been only too happy to take Pavel up on what he was offering. But the thought about Pavel doing that with other people…it made him feel nauseous. It wasn’t disgust…it was jealousy, he realized. Positively sickening jealousy. Leonard suddenly felt like all of the air had gone out of his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. Oh god, he was having a heart attack. Fuck, no, he was having a panic attack. He lurched forward and hung his head between his knees, trying to calm his breathing.

***

Leonard spent the next few hours buried in paperwork that he had been avoiding for weeks. If his personal trauma was good for nothing else, at least it was good for getting the brass off his back. There were several small injuries that came in over the course of the evening, but Pavel had been transferred to a private room by the time that the first had come in so Len hadn’t yet had to face him.

It was nearing midnight by the time he acknowledged the fact that he couldn’t avoid checking on Pavel any longer. The med bay was quiet and he had sent Christine home early. He could handle anything that came in until Dr. M’Benga joined him in a few hours.

“You can do this,” he told himself. He would just go in there, assess how Pavel’s bones were healing, and quickly make his retreat. He grabbed a tricorder, braced himself and pushed the button for entry to the room.

“Come in,” came the response. When he entered, Pavel was awake and intently reading something on a padd.

“That had better not be plans for conduit design,” Leonard said with a levity that he didn’t actually feel.

“No, it’s the design for the warp core emergency coolant system.” Pavel replied with a smirk that made Leonard’s heart lurch. He should have recognized that smirk when he saw it at the club. Len tried to school his expression and stay professional.

“I need to take a look at how your bones are coming along,” He explained.

“Sure thing doctor.” Pavel set the padd down on the table next to the biobed and flicked the blanket off to one side. He was wearing a pair of standard issue boxers and nothing else. Leonard resolutely looked down at the tricorder as he ran it over Pavel’s ankle. The tricorder beeped as an image of the bones in the area materialized on the screen.

“It’s looking good,” he said in an attempt to break the silence. It wasn’t much of a conversation starter and they lapsed back into awkward silence as he shifted to examining Pavel’s radius. When he moved onto the ribs he had a harder time keeping his thoughts strictly professional. He ran his fingers over Pavel’s side out of habit. It wasn’t strictly necessary given the tricorder, but he preferred to feel things for himself. He jerked his hand back like he had been burned at the soft moan that escaped Pavel’s lips. “Sorry.”

“You did not hurt me Len,” Pavel said. Len could feel his face heating up and tried to viciously stamp out any thoughts that were not purely medical in nature.

“Everything looks good kid,” Len said. He turned to leave before he could do anything stupid like offer to kiss everything better, but slim fingers wrapped around his wrist stopping his escape.

“Len,” Pavel began slowly. “About the other night…”

“What other night lieutenant? The chess tournament?” Leonard hoped to god that Pavel really was referring to the chess tournament in which he had beaten Jim, Scotty, and Spock and not what he thought Pavel was referring to.

“You know very well what I’m talking about.” Pavel said indignantly. “The night at the club. Last shore leave.”

“Can we not do this now,” Leonard asked.

“When do you plan to do it Leonard? I’ve waited two weeks, but it seems like your plan is just to never talk.” It was then that Leonard realized something that made his stomach churn and his heart feel like it was doing a line-dance. Pavel had known it was him that night at the club. He had known.

“You knew it was me! You had to have known,” Leonard exclaimed. He was trying very hard not to yell.

“What do you want me to say Leonard,” Pavel asked. Leonard could see something registering in Pavel’s expression. He looked like he had been punched in the gut.

“Just tell me the truth?” Len bit out.

“Yes, yes I knew, okay?” Pavel exclaimed. He hung his head.

“No! No it’s not okay!” Leonard tried to keep his voice from wavering. “Why would you do that to me?” He added without meaning to.

“I didn’t realize that I did anything to you.” Pavel scoffed. Leonard had to admit, that stung. “How was I supposed to know that you didn’t know it was me? You were standing there staring at me like you wanted to consume me. I was surprised sure, but I wasn’t going to fucking question it! I didn’t-” He went suddenly quiet. His voice sounding small in a way that Leonard has rarely heard. He hated it, hated that he was the cause of it. “I thought for the past two weeks that you’ve been avoiding me because you regretted it. I don’t know which is worse.”

Leonard tried to let this information sink in. Not only had Pavel known it was him, he had thought that Leonard knew who he was too.

“How could you think that I knew?” Leonard demanded. “I would never have done that if I had known.”

“Right, because you’re not attracted to me.” Pavel said scathingly.

Leonard didn’t even have it in him to try to deny it at that point.

“I think you know that’s not it.” He scrubbed his hand over his face and sighed. “Look kid, it would be entirely inappropriate.”

“I’m not a kid, Doctor.” Leonard didn’t fail to notice Pavel’s cool tone and the use of his professional title. “I think you know that better than most.” Pavel might as well have slapped him across the face.

“I guess not,” Leonard scoffed, “If you make it a habit of having anonymous, unprotected sex in nightclubs. Actually, you know what, that’s even more juvenile. Pulling stupid stunts like that.” He would later have to admit that his response was largely informed by his hurt.

“You fucking hypocrite. You can honestly stand there and lecture me on unsafe sex? You were there just as much as I was.”

“I wasn’t the one with medical grade lubricant at the ready!”

“For fucks sake. I’m not a celibate recluse like you! But for your information-not that you deserve any sort of explanation of what I do or do not choose to do in my leisure time,” Pavel was positively shaking with indignation now, “it wasn’t even mine! Hikaru passed it to me when we got to club as a laugh.” When he stopped, he was breathing like a winded rhinoceros and Leonard realized that regardless of his personal feelings, he desperately needed to take a step back and remember his professional obligations.

“Look, I’m sorry, Kiii-Pavel,” He corrected himself at the last second. Pavel had a point. If nothing else, he did owe it to him to stop calling him Kid. It would be damn difficult though. “You need to be resting. That was completely unprofessional of me.” Pavel narrowed his eyes at him, so he continued with a sigh, “and just plain wrong. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.”

“Thank you,” Pavel said. He paused before continuing emphatically, “I really don’t make a habit of doing that Leonard.” He looked almost sheepish and it made Leonard’s heart clench.

“Yeah, I know, I have the clean STI tests to prove it,” Len huffed. Pavel paled a bit.

“I’m sorry Leonard. I didn’t even think-“

“You mean you didn’t get yourself tested?” Leonard demanded.

“Well…no,” Pavel explained, “I knew it was you.”

“That’s beside the point. You have to take care of yourself.” Leonard wanted to throttle the kid.

“You’re always taking care of me Leonard, I knew I could trust you,” Pavel responded sheepishly.

“I wouldn’t go that far Kid.” Leonard winced at the slip-up. “I wasn’t exactly responsible either.”

“You really had no idea that it was me?” Combined with the pained look on his face, the slight waver in Pavel’s voice staked Len right in the heart.

“No. I mean I may have noticed some similarities,” He admitted. “And don’t think I didn’t feel plenty guilty about that…but no.” Len took a deep breath and gathered up the courage to meet the kid’s eyes again. “You need rest,” He said.

“We will talk more later,” Pavel said.

“Yeah Pav, we’ll talk more later.” Leonard acquiesced before making his escape.

***

As soon as he was relieved by Doctor M’Benga, Leonard made a b-line for Jim’s quarters. Using his medical override, he ignored such social niceties as knocking and strode right in. Strictly speaking, this wasn’t the safest of moves as there was never a total guarantee that Jim would be alone, but he would take his chances. He marched into Jim’s bedroom and dropped like a sack of potatoes, slumped down and head thrown back, into the armchair he knew Jim used for reading. Jim startled awake and did a double take.

“Fuck! Bones! What are you doing here?” He asked as he scrambled into an upright position.

“I need my fuck up of a best friend right now and not my captain.” Leonard said by way of explanation.

“Okay,” Jim said, drawing out his response. “I can do that.” He had obviously gathered the gravity of the situation. Leonard wasn’t in the habit of bursting in unannounced. That was Jim’s specialty.

Len resolutely stared at the ceiling as he choked out the reason for his visit. “It was Chekov?”

“What was Chekov,” Jim asked.

“The guy from the club. The one I had sex with. It was Pavel Chekov.” Leonard ground out.

“Wait, bones…you fucked Chekov?” Jim asked. Leonard meant to reply with words, but all that came out was a beleaguered groan as he dropped his forehead down to his palms with a loud thwack.

“You fucked Chekov?” Jim repeated in disbelief.

“Don’t make me say it Jim.”

“Fuck,” Jim breathed. “Wow. Good for you Bones.”

“What,” Leonard exclaimed. “What do you mean ‘good for you’? Aren’t you even a little freaked out by this?”

“Why? You’re clearly freaked out enough for the both of us,” Jim replied as he scooted over to sit at the side of the bed.

“Come on Jim!” Len demanded. “Be serious! He’s the youngest member of the crew! He’s only nineteen for fucks sake!”

“Yes, Bones,” Jim said slowly like Leonard was a little slow on the uptake. “He’s a member of the crew of the federation flagship. He’s the chief navigator, not to mention a hell of an engineer. He’s a distinguished graduate of star fleet academy and a successful officer. He is not in your direct line of command so there aren’t any rules against it and he’s a perfectly legal adult.”

“Barely! Jim I’m old enough to be his father!” Leonard sighed, returning his head to his hands.

“I don’t seem to recall your having fathered children at the ripe old age of fourteen.” Jim said.

“Okay, maybe not reasonably old enough to be his father. But I’m definitely too old for him.” Len argued.

“I think that’s for him to decide Bones. He’s old enough to make his own decisions and he’s damn well smart enough to make good ones.” God, Leonard hated when he couldn’t fault Jim’s logic.

“That’s another thing!” Leonard exclaimed. “He knew it was me the whole time! Why the hell would he do it, Jim? I’m a crotchety, thirty-three year old, divorced, father! Oh God, you don’t think it’s a-a daddy thing.” He asked, pulling a face like there was a particularly nasty taste in his mouth.

“Come on Bones, we both know that Chekov has a perfectly wonderful relationship with both of his parents. This isn’t a fetish.”

“Regardless, I’m well passed my prime.” Leonard insisted.

“You’re thirty-three Bones,” Jim said with a long-weary look. “You’re not exactly passed you’re expiration date. You aren’t even nearing middle-aged.”

“Well I have the damn mileage, that’s for sure.” Leonard groused. Jocelyn had made sure of that.

“Look Bones, I know you don’t see yourself very clearly, but as your best friend I like to think I know the good, bad, and ugly about you. And I happen to think that there are a lot of reasons why Chekov might want to be with you. Yes, you’re cynical, and surly, and aviophobic, and oblivious as hell sometimes-“

“Not exactly making a strong case here Jim.” Leonard said, but Jim continued as though Leonard hadn’t interrupted him.

“But you’re also highly intelligent, very attractive, and incredibly brave. You excel at your jobs as a doctor and as a commander. You’re loyal. You know damn well that you can be charming when you want to be. Not to mention that you’re damn well one the most caring people I’ve met in my entire life,” He said. “And don’t worry I won’t let anyone in on that last little secret,” He added when he saw Leonard’s scowl. “To be perfectly honest you’re one of the only people whose ass I wouldn’t kick for screwing around with Chekov.”

“I’m not ‘screwing around’ with him,” Leonard objected.

“Exactly! It was a one-night stand and it seems like no one got hurt.” That wasn’t exactly true. Len’s heart felt like it had been trampled by a herd of Rigelian Ox, but he didn’t bother correcting him. “If you’re so freaked out by it, you can leave it at that and no harm done…and well…if you decide to pursue it further, you know my thoughts on the matter. Now, it’s almost 2am and you have to be back in medbay in what-” he broke off to look at the clock, “six hours? Get out of my quarters and get some damn sleep.”

***

Leonard tried to follow Jim’s advice. He really did. But he found himself still lying awake two hours later, glaring at his alarm clock that was mocking his dwindling time to rest. He couldn’t quite get over just how collected Jim had been about the whole thing. He seemed completely unaffected by Leonard’s tryst. It was easy for him though, he didn’t live in Leonard’s head (even if he often seemed to). He wasn’t party to Leonard’s guilt and shame. For him it was as simple as act on it or forget about it. The problem was that Leonard didn’t think he could bring himself to act on it…and at the same time he really couldn’t convince himself that he wanted to forget it.

#star trek alternate original series #mccoy/chekov #mcchekov #pavel chekov #leonard mccoy

2 notes · View notes

herenya-writes · 4 years ago

Note

if you’re still looking for a lil sad spirk prompt, how about one of their communicators going out on a planet while they’re both down there and one can’t find the other and it’s getting dark or stormy?

Thank you very much for this! I know this is like a day and a half late, but such is the muse lol. Also, this got a little longer than I thought it would be (around a thousand words) so most of it is going to be under a read more. Thanks again!

Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder followed all too quickly. He had known when he and Spock flew the shuttle down here that storms were common on the planet, but he had hoped that they would be in and out without having to deal with any. Well, it was too late for that now.

He flipped open his communicator, already heading in the direction of the shuttle. “Kirk to Spock, do you read me?”

“Affirmative, Captain. Tricorder readings have picked up an intense storm gathering just south of our position.”

“Yeah, I see it,” He glanced up at the rapidly approaching storm wall. “Rendezvous at the shuttle; she’s strong enough to weather the storm.”

“Aye, Ca—” The communicator crackled and hissed before falling silent.

Jim froze, fear racing through him as bright as the lighting that flashed in the distance. “Spock? Spock, do you read me?”

When several seconds passed with no answer, Jim cursed and changed directions. He was about three minutes from the shuttle now, but all the shelter in the world wouldn’t mean a thing if Spock wasn’t there with him. As he headed toward the place where he and Spock had split up earlier, he spoke into his communicator again. “Captain Kirk to Enterprise. Do you read me, Enterprise?” The only response was a crackle. The storm must be interfering with the communicators.

He was practically sprinting by the time he reached the edge of the forest that Spock had wanted to investigate, his steps spurred on by the claps of thunder that were drawing closer and closer. The dense trees forced him to slow, however, and limited his vision to only a few dozen meters in any direction. “Spock! Spock, where are you?”

He could smell the ozone in the air now and knew he only had a few minutes before the rain started coming down. He called again, doing his best to throw his voice above the thunder that seemed to shake the trees every time it boomed.

Finally, finally, he heard a response, and the relief that coursed through him was instantaneous. “Over here, Jim!” He spun around and took off in the direction of Spock’s voice, paying no mind to the tree branches that stung his face as he ran by.

He found Spock leaning against a tree, one of his legs bent at an unnatural angle. “It is broken,” Spock confirmed as he dropped onto his knees next to him. “After the communicator went out, I attempted to make my way to the shuttle. In my haste, I did not see that the ground beneath me was unstable. It shifted under my weight, and I fell.”

“Bones is going to tease us about this for weeks,” Jim said, hoping that the humor would cover the fear in his voice. Spock was in no condition to move very far on his own, and the shuttle was too far away for Jim to carry him. Even if Spock could walk they would never make it in time.

Spock, of course, saw right through him. “Jim.” It was just a single syllable, but it did more to calm him than all the words in the dictionary could. He forced his shoulders to release some of their tension and stood.

“I’m going to see if I can find some shelter nearby,” he said, glancing around the forest. He turned his gaze back to Spock and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare move unless you absolutely have to. Understood?” Spock only inclined his head in response, which wasn’t a yes. They didn’t have time for an argument though, so Jim just glared at him one more time before stepping past him and deeper into the woods.

By the time he found something that was semi-suitable, small droplets were beginning to fall, splashing in his eyes as he made his way back to Spock. “The storm front is almost on top of us, but I found a small cave where we can shelter,” he explained, already bending down to help Spock up. “As long as the rain doesn’t go too sideways, we should stay relatively dry.”

Spock winced as Jim pulled him up, and Jim had to push down the guilt and sorrow that erupted to the surface of his mind. After a minute of maneuvering so that Spock was putting as little weight on his injured leg as possible, they headed toward the cave. With each step, Spock’s stoic composure slipped just a little. To anyone else, it might have been invisible, but Jim had learned to read him like an open book, and right now every micro-expression was one of pain.

The rain began to fall faster and harder, and their clothes were nearly soaked by the time they reached the safety of the cave. Jim helped Spock sit against the back wall, forcing himself to keep a level head as Spock let out a quiet hiss of pain.

“Well, so much for staying dry,” he said, sitting next to Spock, careful not to jostle him with his movements. “Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?”

Spock shook his head. “Your presence is enough, ashayam,” he replied, and Jim couldn’t help the way his lips turned up at the endearment. “Although the storms on this planet are violent, they are also short. We should be able to return to the shuttle within an hour and a half.”

Jim laid his head on Spock’s shoulder, and a silence fell between them for several minutes. The rain continued to pound against the ground outside the cave, lightning flashing across the sky every few seconds and chased by loud claps of thunder. If he had been viewing it under different circumstances, Jim might have found the storm beautiful.

“You scared me,” he said after several minutes, the words almost whispered. He knew Spock would hear them, though. “When your communicator cut out, my brain immediately jumped to the worst conclusions. I know the dangers our job holds, and I know neither of us would trade it for the world, but I can’t imagine what I would do without you by my side.”

He felt Spock shift and place a gentle kiss on the top of his head. “Nor can I, ashayam.”

They watched the storm in silence after that, silently drawing strength from one another as a hundred words passed between them unsaid. They would survive as they always had, side by side, universe be damned.

#herenya writes #spirk #this was supposed to be angsty but its not really #only kinda #idk #i had fun writing it tho!

17 notes · View notes

440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

Text

New Recruit - Part 1

Pairing: Leonard “Bones” McCoy x Lt. Maggie Parker (OFC). Other Characters: Cmdr Spock, Lt. Nyota Uhura, Lt. Ruthie Warner (OFC), Ensign Miranda Nelson (OFC)

Word Count: 4040+

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my first attempt at a fic outside of the Supernatural fandom. I have @spacedancer1701 to thank for that little nudge. :) This particular offering got away from me a bit, so I split it in two. Enjoy, and happy reading!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lieutenant Margaret Parker scanned the crowd as she waited for her turn to report to her assignment. She was one of six new recruits scheduled to board the shuttle that would take her to her next duty station as science officer aboard the USS Enterprise. The lieutenant grinned to herself, barely able to contain her excitement. The flagship of the Fleet. I can't believe this is happening, she thought.

The lieutenant then looked at her watch and frowned. She didn't want to board the shuttle without saying last goodbyes, but she could not be late. She wished that her parents could be here to send her off, but they've been gone for six years now. Her brothers had their families, so they couldn't make it either, due to work and school. This meant no immediate family to say goodbye before she left for her five-year mission.

However, there was one person she really wanted to make sure and say good bye to. Her roommate, best friend and almost-sister, Ruthie Warner. It was Ruthie who had supported her during her Academy years, helped with her studies and made sure she had some fun as well.

The two of them were well-known for their tag-team method of fleecing new recruits at Rocky's Bar by hustling games of 8-ball. Every year, the bar held an 8-ball tournament. Every year for the past four it had come down to Ruthie versus Maggie, as she was called by friends and family. Some of the time Ruthie won, and sometimes Maggie won, but they were always #1 and #2.

"I'm here! I'm here! Don't leave yet!" she heard as Ruthie came running towards her. The two women wrapped each other in a fierce hug, tears threatening for both of them. "You take care of yourself, you hear me, Lieutenant Maggie Parker, Science Officer for the USS Enterprise?" Ruthie whispered hoarsely.

"I will, I promise. You do the same, Lieutenant Ruthie Warner, Head Nurse of the USS Pegasus," Maggie chuckled dryly. "Love, you Sis," Maggie whispered.

"Love you too, Sis. Now get going," Ruthie ordered as she playfully pushed Maggie towards the shuttle's passenger loading area.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The energy waves of the transporter beams faded away, leaving Lt. Parker standing firmly on the pad. Waiting to greet her and the other recruits were Captain James T Kirk, First Officer, Cmdr. Spock and Chief Engineer, Montgomery Scott.

Maggie stepped down from the transporter pad and handed the captain a PADD with a copy of her orders and all of her information. "Lt. Margaret Parker, reporting for duty, Sir," she announced.

"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. At ease, please," Capt. Kirk replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She waited while he accessed a copy of her orders on the PADD in his hand.

"All righty, Lt. Parker, you are cleared to report to Dr. McCoy in the MedBay for your incoming physical. After that, someone will show you to your quarters," Kirk explained. "Good to have you aboard, Lieutenant." With a smile and a wink, the captain left the transporter room.

"Please follow me, Lt. Parker and I will show you where the MedBay is," said Commander Spock.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The doors to the MedBay slid open, and Cmdr. Spock strode over to a strikingly handsome dark-haired man with sharp, hazel eyes. "Dr. McCoy, this is Lt. Margaret Parker, here for her initial physical examination. Lieutenant, when you are finished, I will have someone escort you to your quarters. Excuse me," Spock turned and left the MedBay.

"Well, Lt. Margaret Parker, welcome to the Enterprise," remarked Dr. McCoy. "Hop up here on the biobed and we'll get this started," he ordered.

"Maggie," she said as she maneuvered herself up onto the biobed.

"Beg pardon?" Dr. McCoy asked.

"Maggie. Short for Margaret, in case you were wondering. It's a family name," Maggie explained.

"Oh. Well, Maggie, let's get this show on the road. I've got a mountain of paperwork to sift through," McCoy grumbled.

"Yes, sir," Maggie said softly as Dr. McCoy gave her an initial scan with his tricorder.

Dr. McCoy was about to give Lt. Parker her final assessment when two members of the engineering team walked in. One of them was holding her head, and looked almost ready to pass out. It took both her co-worker and Dr. McCoy to help her up to sit on the edge of the biobed.

"I'll be right back over, Lt. Parker, so just sit tight," Dr. McCoy called over his shoulder. Turning his attention back to his new patient, he began his examination. After a few minutes, he left the area to get what he needed to treat the young engineer.

While Maggie waited for Dr. McCoy to come back, she looked all around the MedBay to acquaint herself with her surroundings. Her attention landed on the engineer brought in about ten or fifteen minutes ago by her co-worker, who had already returned to duty.

The young lady was swaying a bit from side to side, holding her head. Suddenly, she leaned over too far and was about to fall off the edge. Maggie jumped up and rushed over to the engineer to catch her before she could cause further injury to herself.

"Whoa, easy there, I've got you. Let's get you set back up on here. So what happened that brings you down here?" Maggie asked. She had a suspicion that since the girl had a head injury, it could possibly be a concussion.

"I was down in Engineering, repairing a machine when something exploded and knocked me back," she explained.

"Did you hit your head?" Maggie asked.

"Yes, I did. Can I please lay down? My head really hurts and I'm so tired," she begged.

"No, honey, I need you to stay awake. You might have a concussion, and if you do, going to sleep is not a good idea," Maggie replied. "My name is Lieutenant Margaret Parker, but you can call me Maggie. What's your name?" she asked.

"Um....I'm Ensign Miranda Nelson," she responded.

"Nice to meet you, Ensign Nelson. Or, is it okay if I call you Miranda? Anyway, today's my first day here, and I can already tell it won't be boring around here. So how long have you worked in Engineering, Miranda?" Maggie kept asking Ensign Nelson questions to help keep her oriented and from going to sleep. Every so often, Maggie would interject pieces of information from her life into the conversation.

Dr. McCoy checked the hypospray to make sure it was the right one, and returned to the main patient area. Maggie was now sitting with Miranda, with her arm around the ensign's shoulder. McCoy took a few minutes to observe the situation currently in play with the beautiful lieutenant.

From the moment she stepped into his MedBay, McCoy knew Lt. Parker was different from any other woman he'd met thus far in his life. She had bright, expressive hazel eyes, and he could see a bit of mischief in them. Her hair was a light chestnut brown, curly and was just long enough to brush the top of the collar on her uniform.

Maggie had a gentleness about her, which was obvious to McCoy from his observations of her conversation with Ensign Nelson. She had a soothing voice and refrained from showing frustration with Miranda's repetitive requests to go to sleep. Maggie looked around and when she locked eyes with McCoy, he returned to Ensign Nelson's biobed to step in and take charge of the situation.

"Well, Lieutenant, I hope I haven't been replaced as CMO for this case, now have I?" Dr. McCoy asked.

"No, sir! Not at all! This is Ensign Miranda Nelson, who almost fell off the biobed, but I got to her in time. She's complaining of a headache and really, really wants to go to sleep," Maggie explained.

"So, why shouldn't I give her a painkiller and send her back to her quarters for some rest?" McCoy inquired.

"Because she said she was repairing a machine in Engineering and there was a small explosion. She said it knocked her off of her feet and she hit her head. My concern would be that she may have a concussion, and it is therefore inadvisable to allow her to sleep," Maggie answered.

McCoy nodded and continued to examine Miranda while Maggie shared her hypothesis. "Well, Lieutenant, it turns out that your suspicions were correct, Ensign Nelson does have a concussion," he said. He motioned for Nurse Chapel to step back over to his position and gave her some treatment instructions for the ensign.

Maggie went back over to her biobed and resumed her sitting position while she waited for Dr. McCoy's assessment of her physical condition. "Thank you for your help with Ensign Nelson. Had you not been here, she would've sustained further injuries," he remarked.

"You're welcome, Dr. McCoy," Maggie murmured.

Returning to doctor mode, "Your vital signs look good, vision perfect. In general, you're in tip-top shape, Lieutenant. Except," he ran the tricorder along her limbs to check the joints. "You have a bit of tendon damage in your right wrist and right elbow. Are you a tennis player by chance?" he guessed.

Maggie smiled and shook her head. "Nope, I don't play tennis, Dr. McCoy," she replied.

"Leonard," he added.

"Huh?" she asked.

"My name is Leonard. You're Maggie, I'm Leonard," he explained. "Forget it, never mind," he grumbled. What the hell am I doing?!? he thought. Is this--Am I--FLIRTING?

Before he had a chance to answer the last question he asked himself, Maggie was asking him what he could do to fix it. She had felt some tenderness in those joints, and was hoping for some relief. Besides, it had recently kept her from doing any real damage at the tables against the new recruits. "Doc? Doctor? Dr. McCoy!" Maggie's voice finally broke through his mental fog.

McCoy shook his head as if to clear it. "Sorry, darlin', didn't mean to check out on you there. I'll just go get a hypo for the pain, then we'll get on to fixing that tendon damage," he told her.

A couple of minutes later, he returned with a hypospray and another device in hand. "I must say, Lieutenant, I'm impressed with your diagnostic capabilities," McCoy smiled at her.

"Well, Doctor, it helps to have a sister for a roommate. She's getting ready to serve as Head Nurse aboard the USS Pegasus. Staying up all those late nights helping her study must have stuck in my head after all," Maggie grinned back.

"So you got to room with your sister, that was convenient," McCoy commented.

"Actually, my roommate became my best friend, and we've been through so much together, we're like sisters. Her name is Lieutenant Ruthie Warner," Maggie explained.

"Friendships like that are rare and priceless. Do whatever's necessary to preserve it," McCoy advised.

"I fully plan on doing that, Doctor. I remember when we first met at Rocky's Bar, near the Academy, one night over a rack of 8-ball," Maggie mentioned.

"You shoot pool?" McCoy asked in surprise. Well, damn if that's not sexy. Wait, what? he thought.

Maggie chuckled. "Yes, Doctor, I sure do. 'M pretty good at it if I may say so myself. Anyway, I'm sure that the tendon damage you detected is because I'm right-handed when I play. In fact, the twinges I've been feeling lately have seriously affected my game," she muttered.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Let's see what we can do to alleviate some of that pain," McCoy said. Maggie tilted her head to the right to give him access to her neck for the hypospray. After administering the painkiller, McCoy gently rubbed the injection site to ease the sting. Then he took the other device and slowly passed it over her wrist then her elbows.

"That should take care of mending those tendons. Now, all you have to do is keep a cue stick out of your hand for about a day or two," McCoy smirked.

Maggie chuckled. "I'm sure I'll have plenty of work to keep me busy to where that won't be a problem," she grinned. She appreciated his calm bedside manner and the feel of his hands on her neck after the hypo injection. When he smiled, there were these adorable little crinkles around his eyes. What am I thinking? she admonished herself. You just got here and you're already making goo-goo eyes at the doctor? Didn't you learn your lesson with Ryan? you chided.

At that moment, a slender, dark-skinned woman with long hair entered the MedBay and strode over to you. "My name is Lt. Nyota Uhura, and I'm the Communications Officer. Cmdr. Spock sent me to escort you to your quarters, if you're ready. That is, if Dr. McCoy is finished with his examination," Uhura remarked.

"Everything checks out, Lt. Uhura, her physical exam is complete. I'll send my final report over to Jim once I'm finished with it," McCoy replied.

Maggie hastily climbed down from the biobed, suddenly anxious to flee the MedBay and its attractive CMO. She began an almost speed-walk to the door when Dr. McCoy called out to her. She turned to face Dr. McCoy. "Yes, Doctor?" she asked.

"Once your tendons are healed, I'm looking forward to splitting a rack of 8-ball with you," McCoy gave her a wink and a smirk.

"Until then, Dr. McCoy," Maggie replied softly, giving him a small smile. She continued her retreat from the MedBay to catch up to Lt.Cmdr Uhura.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"First day, hmm?" Uhura asked.

"Yep, kinda nervous, too," Maggie admitted.

"I understand that, but don't be. This is the best crew I've ever worked with, and I'm sure you'll be a fantastic addition. Seems like you've already made an impression on Dr. McCoy," she remarked slyly.

"Oh? Why do you say that?" Maggie asked.

"Well, he's usually kind of grumpy, and he's not exactly known for socializing much. But he seemed to have warmed up a little, from what I saw," Uhura answered.

"I dunno," Maggie shrugged. "I didn't get the 'grumpy' impression at all. He was fairly sociable towards me, and we had some pleasant conversation. He seems very dedicated to his patients," she affirmed.

By this time, they had reached the door to her quarters. Once inside, Uhura gave Maggie the grand tour. She explained to Maggie how everything worked and where to find everything, in case it was arranged a bit differently than on her last assignment.

"Things are little informal on this ship, more like a big family than anything. It's not unusual for the captain to join us at meals, or for drinks after shift." Uhura laid a hand on Maggie's arm. "If you ever need to talk, please let me know. I'm hoping we can become friends," she remarked.

Maggie smiled warmly at Lt. Uhura. "Thank you, I hope so as well. Really missing my best friend right now, but she has her assignment, and I have mine," she replied with a watery smile. "I just can't believe I'm finally here, on the flagship of the Fleet!" Maggie exclaimed.

Uhura laughed. "I'm sure you've worked very hard to get here, because the Enterprise only lets in the best of the best. Relax, you have made it to the big show, my dear! Try not to work too hard, though," she advised. "Hey, some of us are getting together later for a drink, why don't you join us? It'll give you a chance to meet the rest of the group," Uhuru offered.

"Hmm. Let me think about it, and I'll let you know, if that's okay? I was just going to relax in my quarters for tonight," Maggie answered. "Wait, what time is everyone getting together?"

"I think Spock said to meet in the rec area at 2100 hrs. It'll be great, got to have fun while we have downtime," Uhura replied, then left Maggie's quarters.

I can't believe I'm here, and making friends already, she thought. The captain was relaxed, easygoing, but Maggie was sure he had the utmost respect of the crew. Nyota was quickly becoming a good friend, and Maggie couldn't wait to meet the rest of the group.

Maggie decided one night out wouldn't hurt, but she wanted to take a nap before meeting the rest of the crew. As she stared at the ceiling, she wondered briefly if Dr. McCoy would be joining them this evening. Nah, he said he had a mountain of paperwork to do, so he probably won't be there. Perhaps some other time, Maggie sighed. Her eyelids began to droop, then finally stayed closed as thoughts of a certain CMO danced in her head.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Captain Kirk made his way to the MedBay to speak to his CMO. He had gotten word from Nyota that some of the crew was getting together tonight in the recreation area. He had also heard that Uhura had invited the newest crew member, Lt. Maggie Parker to join them.

"Hey, Christine, is he in?" Kirk asked Head Nurse Christine Chapel.

"Yes, Jim, he's been holed up in his office all afternoon. Try and get him out of there, would you?" she pleaded.

Kirk nodded and smiled at Nurse Chapel and knocked on McCoy's office door. When there was no answer, he let himself in.

"Well, by all means, Jim, come right in," McCoy remarked dryly.

"Thanks, Bones. Hey, I was wondering if you were almost finished here, some of us are going down to the recreation area for a drink," Kirk mentioned.

"I've got a ton of paperwork, Jim. I don't think so," McCoy answered.

Kirk decided to try a different tactic. "Oh, by the way, thank you for sending over the results of Lt. Parker's incoming physical so quickly. Looks like Starfleet sent us a stellar recruit," Kirk remarked.

"Yes, Jim, she's fine," McCoy replied as he leaned back a little in his chair. "Actually, it was a good thing she was in here, or I would've had a situation on my hands," he added.

"Oh, really?" Jim asked.

Dr. McCoy proceeded to tell him of the engineer that came in with the head injury while he was conducting Lt. Parker's physical. "I left the room for a couple of minutes to get something. If Maggie hadn't been there, Ensign Nelson would've fallen off the biobed," McCoy explained.

"Lucky for you 'Maggie' was there," Kirk responded.

McCoy nodded, then explained how Maggie sat with the ensign and was able to detect her concussion. "She said her sister was on assignment as Head Nurse on the USS Pegasus, a Lt. Ruthie Warner," he remarked.

"Wait a minute. Parker and Warner, why do I know those names?" Kirk wondered aloud.

"Well, now how in the hell should I know, Jim?" McCoy retorted. "Anyway, I've got work to do, so if you don't mind," he said as a way to encourage the captain to leave.

"Come on, have a drink with us, Bones. You need to loosen up a bit. Besides, Nyota said she got Maggie to agree to meet us there," Kirk indicated.

McCoy thought for a moment. A chance to spend more time with the lovely lieutenant outside of a work setting could be promising, he thought. "I'll see what I can do, Jim. What time is everyone meeting?" he asked.

"Spock said something about 2100 hrs. Come on, Bones, don't make me give you a direct order," Kirk warned.

"Jim. I said I'd see what I can do, I'm not promising anything. IF I'm there, I may be a little later than 2100 hrs.--"

"Good! I'll tell everyone you're coming. See you there, Bones!" Jim hollered as he left McCoy's office, leaving the good doctor shaking his head as he returned to his work.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Maggie had contacted Uhura to tell her she decided to join them for a drink after all. She was almost finished getting ready when she heard the chimes at her door. "Come in!" she called as she spritzed some perfume on her wrist. During the course of her unpacking, she had found her favorite pale peach sweater and dark gray jeans.

Uhura and Spock stepped inside Maggie's quarters. "Maggie? Where are you, hun?" Uhura asked.

"In here, just finishing up getting ready. Can't seem to get this earring in--ah, there it goes," Maggie said, stepping out of the bathroom and into the main living area. "Good evening, Cmdr. Spock. It's nice to see you again," Maggie remarked.

"Likewise, Lt. Parker," Spock returned.

"Please call me Maggie. So what brings you two by my quarters? I was just getting ready to head out to the rec area," she asked.

"I thought we could go together, show you how to get there and all," Uhura explained.

"Sounds logical, thank you. Oh, will the captain be joining us this evening?" she inquired.

"He's supposed to be, and I believe he mentioned something about it to Dr. McCoy as well," Uhura replied, watching for Maggie's reaction.

"Oh, well, won't that be lovely," Maggie remarked nervously. Uhura looked to Spock and nudged him out the door, with Maggie following.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"And that's the last time I tried to out-drink my sister!" Maggie exclaimed, to a chorus of raucous laughter. "When I woke up, I had the hangover of all hangovers, then had my final Chemistry exam that morning. Fortunately, I passed my exam. Then I went back to my dorm room, took two painkillers and passed out!" she finished to more laughter.

"Now, you said your sister is Lt. Ruthie Warner?" asked the captain.

"Yes, sir. She's the new Head Nurse of the USS Pegasus. She and I met at the Academy and hung out a lot at Rocky's Bar, playing 8-ball," Maggie explained.

"Parker and Warner....THAT'S where I remember your names from!" Kirk exclaimed. "You and your sister always ended up taking the top two spots in Rocky's annual tournament. Four years running, if I remember correctly," he finished.

"That's us, Captain," Maggie grinned. "Alas, now that I'm here, Rocky's torch must pass to someone else. I just play for fun now, except I'm under strict orders from Dr. McCoy NOT to have a cue stick in my hand for the next day or so."

"Good evening, all, is this seat taken?" Dr. McCoy gestured to the empty seat. He was wearing dark wash jeans with cowboy boots, a burgundy-colored button-down shirt and a thin black leather jacket. He greeted Spock, Uhura and the rest, then placed his drink on the table and claimed the barstool next to Maggie for himself.

"Speak of the devil, Bones! Glad you could make it tonight, pull up a seat," Kirk greeted the doctor boisterously.

"Don't mind if I do, Jim, thank you. Lieutenant, lovely to see you again. How are you enjoying your first day on board the Enterprise?" McCoy asked.

"It's like a dream come true for me. I've always heard that the Enterprise crew is the best of the best, and it's long been my goal to earn my place here. I've already met so many wonderful people like yourselves, and I'm looking forward to becoming friends with all of you," Maggie finished.

"Well said, Lieutenant," McCoy held up his drink in salute, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Thank you, Dr. McCoy, and please call me 'Maggie'. At least when we're not on duty," she requested.

McCoy leaned closer to Maggie. "Only if you call me 'Leonard', darlin'," he replied softly.

Maggie reached over and placed her hand on top of his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Agreed. Leonard," Maggie giggled. She'd only said it once, but already McCoy loved the sound of his name falling from her lips.

Across the table, Kirk and the others paid particular attention to the interaction between their CMO and newest addition to the crew. They exchanged glances with each other about what appeared to be happening between McCoy and Maggie.

It was clear to everyone that the pair were completely oblivious to what was going on around them except for each other. They liked Maggie already, and had hopes that something might happen between her and Dr. McCoy.

Part 2 here!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

#leonard mccoy x reader #leonard bones mccoy x reader #bones mccoy x reader #bones x reader #star trek aos

41 notes · View notes

hailbop1701 · 4 years ago

Text

25 Days of FicMas

December 5th prompt: Stuck in a room with someone you hate on Christmas

Word Count: 3,077

Lockdown

I know this late! I'm so sorry but my laptop decided it wanted to start a stupidly long update that took the entire day! 🤦‍♀️ I don't really like what I wrote but here it is anyway! Not my best work but someday I'll make it up by writing a detailed chapter Enemies to lovers fic. I promise

-H❤🖖

It was holiday time on the Enterprise, everyone seemed to be in a mood to celebrate. Well almost everyone, the Enterprises infamous grouchy CMO was in anything but a cheerful mood. He scowled and barked at everyone, from ensign to the Captain, so most just kept out of his way. Nurse Chapel clucked her tongue disapprovingly, “I know that this is his least favorite time of year but honestly!” she said resisting the strong urge to stomp her foot in frustration. She watched as another young ensign tearfully left the medbay; the girl quickly rushed past the Captain as he entered the room. He watched as the ensign left with a look of shocked concern, “he in his office?” Jim asked almost casually. Chapel huffed, “Yes, that was his last appointment of the night. He has officially locked himself away in his office,” she said dryly. Kirk smiled his thousand-watt grin. “Good I need your help,” he said bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excited child. Christine Chapel looked at the man skeptically, “and why would I do such a thing Captain?” she asked as she cleaned up the nurse’s station. Kirk leaned in as if what he was about to tell her was top secret, “It’s about Bones...and a certain engineer,” he said in a sing-song voice.

Christine perked up and smiled wickedly, “Oh please tell me we fix what’s between them!” she groaned slapping down a padd scaring a nearby orderly. Kirk smirked, “Oh I guarantee it will fix things! They say that they hate each other, but everyone - even Spock can see that it’s a bunch of bull,” he said keeping his voice low. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the CMO’s office door open, “I’ll send you the details later,” he whispered winking. “Jim stop harassing my nurses!” McCoy snapped stalking towards them deep scowl on his face. Holding up his hand in a placating gesture Jim grinned, “Just looking for you Bones!” he said giving his friend a smile.

Over the next few days, Jim Kirk and Christine Chapel exchanged messages and met in quiet rec rooms and corridors to finalize their plan. On the day that they were to execute, “Operation: Lockdown,”. Christine sat at the nurse’s station, keeping a casual eye on the CMO’s office waiting for McCoy to leave for his usual lunch break. When he left she quickly sent a message to Kirk telling him to “get a move on,” she watched as Kirk quickly jogged through Medbay’s doors into Leonard’s office; Christine watched the clock anxiously. Kirk swiftly left the office and up to the desk grinning wickedly, “part two,” he whispered before leaving to the mess hall to catch a quick meal. Christine smiled to herself as she tapped away at the most recent crew physicals.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It had been a hellish day for you from the moment you woke up that morning, first you slept in making you twenty minutes late for your shift. Scotty wasn’t pleased but he let it slide due to the Holiday, and as a passive-aggressive punishment he gave you grunt work. A sudden shock brought you back to the present, cursing you shook your hand hoping to rid it of the tingling pain. A chirp from your belt made you want to cry in exasperation, flipping open your communicator you grimaced at the possible next project. “(Y/L/N) here,” you sighed pinching the bridge of your nose. “Lassie I need you to head to medical, McCoy’s replicator is on the fritz. The staff would love for you to make it hasty if ye can,” Scotty said sounding almost amused. Suppressing a groan you nodded to no one in particular, “Yeah Scotty I got it,” you muttered clearly unhappy with the prospect of going to Medbay; not that going to Medbay was a problem it was just the possibility of seeing the CMO. Putting away your tools, you close up the now functioning console. Waving goodbye to the people in security you nervously scurried to the Medical Bay. Clutching your toolkit in a white knuckle grasp your mind drifted remembering exactly how you came to be on bad terms with Doctor Leonard McCoy.

It was after the Enterprise was rebuilt; being stationed on Yorktown already, you were offered a position on her crew. Montgomery Scott came to you with the Captain in tow to ask if you personally. Surprised at first you couldn’t help but beam and be excited at the opportunity. Sometime after accepting the position as Mr. Scotts second you were informed that you had to get a general physical done; sighing at the prospect of having to deal with Yorktown medical you kept a constant mantra in your head, “Enterprise, Enterprise, Enterprise,” as if you could click your heels and you’d be right at home. Squaring your shoulders you checked in at the front desk; the receptionist smiled trying to hide a sympathetic cringe, she indicated that you should go to the twelfth floor where the Enterprises primary physician would see you. Hesitantly you said your thanks put off by the woman's attitude and moved to the elevators with a new nervousness.

A kind nurse (who turned out to be the one and only Christine Chapel) waited for you by the elevators. Looking up from her padd she had smiled at you warmly; most likely to put you at ease. “Lieutenant, lovely to see you,” she said, tone ringing like a bell; you smiled back before following her to an empty exam room. After weighing you and taking your height she gestured for you to hop up on the exam bed, smiling she looked up from her padd, “Alright, just wait here and Doctor McCoy will be in shortly,” and you were left alone to your thoughts. You had of course heard of the infamous Doctor of the Enterprise; the stories had to be exaggerated. At least you hoped they were. The sound of a door opening made you jump slightly; turning enough to see a dark-haired man wearing medical whites reading a padd. He was quite handsome if you were being honest with yourself. The only thing that threw you off was the deep scowl darkening his face. “Lieutenant (Y/L/N), I see that you had your yearly physical last month and that you’ve recently been here for...a broken arm,” he said in a rather nice southern drawl. You nodded, “Yes sir, broke it while fixing the wiring between...nevermind,” you laughed nervously at your babbling. McCoy raised a single eyebrow and managed to keep his scowl in place, “Engineer, huh?” he asked plucking a medical tricorder from it’s charging station across the room. You nodded sitting up straighter as he came back twiddling with the controls, he ran the scanner over your body and quickly took note of what it told him. “You idiot engineers are almost in my Medbay more than security,” he said gruffly. The statement made you bristle slightly a scowl now adorning your face, “We do what we need to, to keep things running.” you muttered sitting ramrod straight. Doctor McCoy snorted, “ you’re all reckless and have the self-preservation instincts of a rock,” he said, not caring at all if you were insulted. Gritting your teeth you fully glared at the man now, “Yeah well Doctors can be pompous egotistical assholes but you don’t see me complaining,” you said cocking your head to the side as if you were daring him to retaliate. The Doctor glared sticking a hypo sharply into your neck. You refused to flinch or complain. Doctor McCoy tossed away what seemed to be a vaccination and dismissed you with a simple, “You’re clear,”

You stopped before you hit the Medbay doors; blinking the memory away, you square your shoulders and headed in. You’ve been on the Enterprise for a year and you still argued with the CMO. You did your best to avoid him but something about him keeps bringing you back. The verbal sparring matches were fun and pretty legendary if you paid attention to crew gossip. He wasn’t bad to look at either, but for the life of you, you couldn’t stand the man. Literally. You couldn’t really stand in his presence, your knees would go weak and you constantly felt like you needed to throw up. Uhura and Christine laughed when you told them, they would declare that “You like him!” but you refused to admit anything of the sort. Walking into Medbay, you saw Christine puttering around checking off various things on her padd; upon seeing you, she glided over with a smile on her face. “Thank you so much for making this a priority!” she said giving you a gentle hug. Hugging her back you looked around noticing that Medbay was pretty much empty. “Where is everyone?” you asked walking with Christine to McCoy’s office, “The Holiday party,” she said giving you a look; as if you were supposed to know that. And she would be right, you winced at the reminder, “Kinda glad for my punishment now,” you muttered dryly.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that it was empty. “Doctor McCoy is a terror this time of year and a broken replicator means no coffee, which means my life is hell until it’s fixed,” Christine said grumpily with a roll of her eyes. You snickered at the prospect of seeing the Doctor suffer through caffeine withdrawals, “I’ll do my best,” you said after taking a quick look at the machine. Christine grinned, “I’ll leave you to it,” she gushed before rushing back out into the ward. You shook your head, ‘she’s acting weirder than she usually does,’

Prying open the maintenance hatch you waved a hand back and forth at the smoke that emitted from the wiring. “Great,” you muttered as you pulled a little flashlight from your kit. Turning it on you peered inside careful of the now exposed wires, “what in the freaking hell,” you said mystified. Putting the flashlight between your teeth so you could use both hands you started to painstakingly pick through the circuitry. At the end of your first hour, you had almost taken apart the replicator entirely, “I’m gonna need all new parts,” you mumbled around the end of the flashlight. “I swear I’m not going to help him when he comes crawling to me tomorrow with a hangover,” a distinct southern voice grumbled from outside the door; of course you didn’t hear him until he was already in the room cursing up a storm startled by your appearance. Yelping at the sudden noise you dropped the flashlight from your mouth and wrenched your arm free of the replicator’s insides. Yelping a second time you hold your now heavily bleeding arm, “damn it!” you cursed irritated. You heard McCoy rush towards you, he quickly placed a hand towel from the nearby sink and placed it over the deep laceration. “Keep pressure on it,” he whispered sounding almost apologetic. You replaced his hand with yours wincing only a little at the burning sensation running up your arm into your shoulder. You watched as Doctor McCoy moved quickly for the door but slammed into it because it didn’t open for him. “What the hell?” he whispered and continuously hit the door control only for it to keep denying him. He looked over at you and you shrugged, “don’t look at me,” you said butt hitting the floor feeling light-headed.

Leonard cursed again; giving up on the door he pulled open multiple desk drawers looking for his mission first aid kit. After he found it he rushed to your side again, “How are you feeling?” he asked even though he was running a tricorder over you. “Today has been shitty,” you grunted tossing your wire cutters back into your tool bag. Leonard hummed in agreement as he bandaged your arm and giving you a hypo to help staunch the bleeding even further and another for the pain. “Thanks,” you sighed holding your arm protectively to your chest, Doctor McCoy huffed and sat back so he was facing you. You both looked up when the lights flickered off and into emergency lighting. “Typical,” McCoy muttered pinching the bridge of his nose, “The room is in Lockdown,” you observed mildly. Leonard scowled at your detachment, “Do you have a communicator on you?” he asked holding back his insults and sarcasm. Rolling your eyes you pulled the device from it's hiding place on your belt, flipping it open you hoped to reach Scotty. Nothing. Gritting your teeth you tried Uhura. Nothing again. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly you tried one more time; to whoever was on comm tonight. Nothing for briefest of moments before the voice of Kevin Riley filtered through, “Kevin!” you gasped relieved, “hey I have a problem. I’m stuck in the CMO’s office can you send someone to help?” you asked sweetly. There was a pause over the line and the sound different voices whispering, “Yeah sure (Y/N) but it might take a while, we’re on a skeleton crew tonight. I’ll see what I can do!” Kevin said, his voice going pitchy at the end.

“He just lied through his teeth,” McCoy hissed irritation showing on his face and you offered your comm so he could try. “Nothing I can do; Jim is already too far gone and is probably the one who did all of this. And he most likely has an order out preventing anyone from helping us.” you pulled out your padd, hitting a few commands you pulled up to what looks to be a timer. You bit your lip, “yeah looks like we’re in timeout,” you said carefully leaning back so you were against the wall by the broken replicator. “Means he broke your caffeine provider,” you joked half-heartedly making the doctor shake his head ruefully. “Of all the stupid things…” he sighed. You observed him for a moment wanting to say something. Deciding against it you looked down at your scuffed up boots, “This has to be a great Christmas, stuck in a room with someone you hate,”

McCoy’s head snapped in you up at your statement, his green eyes flickered between so many emotions you couldn’t keep track. He settled on regret and shame, “I don’t hate you,” he whispered looking down at his clasped hands. You were about to laugh but he continued cautiously as if he were choosing his words with great care. “Though you are a pain in my ass, I don’t hate you. On the day we met, I got some bad news and I took it out on you. I am sorry for that.” he said taking a breath he looked up into your eyes again. “I Found out that I can’t see my daughter unless my ex allows it,” he said hoping the explanation would ease your mind as to why he had been such an ass to you. Thinning your lips you felt sympathy wash through you, knowing that’s not what he’s after you slowly crawled to sit next to him, “I’m sorry that happened, I guess that first impression made it hard for us to get along,” you said thinking about all the times you riled the man up over the past year. There was a tense silence for the next few minutes as you both tried to figure out how to mend the bridges you had burned. “I’m sorry,” you both said at the same time creating more awkwardness. Chuckling you picked at the bandages on your arm, the blood had already seeped through creating a giant red splotch, McCoy batted your hand away and gently tightened them again. “How about we start over?” he suggested after he was done. A smile crossed your lips, “Nice to meet you, I’m Lieutenant (Y/N) (Y/L/N)” you said holding out your hand.

McCoy smiled back taking your much smaller hand into his, “Leonard McCoy,” he whispered. “You know I’m going to need help dealing with the Captain after this, you in?” Leonard’s smile turned into a grin, “Darlin’ it would be my pleasure,” he drawled. The sudden pet name made your cheeks go red, Leonard didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He loved it when you blushed, whether it was from anger or embarrassment. He listened amused as you muttered about programming an alarm to play Klingon death metal loudly in Kirk’s quarters at three in the morning. You trailed off after trying to explain how you would do it, sheepishly you looked up through your lashes seeing Leonard looking down at you with complete wonderment. “What?” you laughed and he shook his head like he was trying to shake himself out of a daze, “nothin’ I-” he broke off the sentence and looked away embarrassed. The tops of his ears turned red; at that point, you only just noticed that neither of you let go of each other’s hands. He didn’t say anything so you didn’t either. Feeling the day hit you, you yawned tiredly and rested your head on McCoy's shoulder; “(Y/N)” the sound of Leonards’s voice made you hum, eyes closing. “After we thoroughly take care of Jim, do you…” he trailed off losing courage. Leonard growled in frustration, it made you smile. “Yeah, I’ll have a drink with you,” you murmur sleepily. The doctor snorted a laugh, “typical, you couldn’t have let me finish,” he muttered referencing past arguments where he could rarely get a word in edgewise. “It’s all part of my charm,” you yawned and moved closer as Leonard pulled his arm away so he could wrap it around you. He felt warm despite the chill in his office, he was actually happy to be stuck there with you “I don’t know darlin’ I think we need to get the Captain a bottle of bourbon,” you snorted and shook your head, “No his ego will be the size of Europa,” you mumbled drifting off. It was another hour before the lights flickered back to normal and the office door became unsealed, “not a word Christine,” McCoy hissed when the head nurse peaked in mischievously. The woman chuckled, “of course not sir,” she whispered watching as her boss gently lifted you off the floor with ease.

Tags:

@thottiewithashotgun

@lauraaan182

@writerdee1701

@dw-writes

@marvelouslytrekking

@spenceneedsahug

#star trek aos #leonard mccoy x reader #Leonard McCoy #reader insert #25 days of ficmas #Hailey the typo queen

54 notes · View notes

une-pomm3 · 5 years ago

Note

:o How did I not know that the list of prompts was pinned on your profile?? I can request one?? Little ol’ me???? You are far too generous. I’m a simple girl who loves when Spirk look into each other’s eyes and go OH. So, here ya go: 1. There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close

Listen, I took the request and didn’t exactly follow it, but I was inspired by a thought so, yanno... I hope it counts.

And yes, I love doing prompts! I encourage them because they encourage me to write! Especially over the weekend!!

Captain Kirk surprised everyone by selecting Ensign Xu to join the landing party. Though her Fleet Academy records showed remarkable promise for a well distinguished Security Officer, she was green and could barely speak a sentence that didn't abort halfway into a stuttering conclusion. Jim had heard her speaking to other officers in wonderfully complete and flowing sentences, so he had simply assumed she was shy when it came to the command team. He was of the opinion that there was no better way to get someone used to their role aboard the Enterprise than to throw them directly into the fray.

The mission on Cignii VI was not considered to be overtly dangerous, but neither was it expected to go simply. Commander Spock and an accompaniment of eager scientists were anxious to collect samples of a rare fungus that only grew on the planet's surface during the first few days after its rainy season. The fungus had shown promise, after previous expeditions to the surface, to further the research of a potential cure for the Crestian Flu - as well as many other fascinating properties, as Mr. Spock had explained, eyes shining with barely concealed interest. The preliminary results even had Dr. McCoy's curiosity piqued.

As the Ensign had not minored in any scientific areas of study during her tenure at the Academy, the Captain enjoyed the prospect of having at least one member, along with himself, of the landing party whose attentions would not be solely focused on the ground beneath their feet. Unlikely to become fascinated by green lichen, there would be at least someone else focused on the horizon and prepared for potential danger.

Given the nature of his luck, combined with the likelihood of a conflict-free expedition, the Captain was not surprised when their crew wandered, quiet by accident, up to a well-shielded encampment of Romulans.

By some stroke of good fortune that Jim was unsure he had at his disposal, they had not been immediately detected. He hissed for the team to get low, down into the underbrush. He unholstered his phaser, setting it to stun. He heard the corresponding clicks of phasers on either side of him as the two security personnel flanking him followed his lead.

Warmth came up behind him and he knew without turning that Spock had crept closer, leaning into his personal space.

“They did not appear on my tricorder, Captain,” he murmured, answering Jim’s question before he could even think to ask it. He hummed and chewed on the inside of his lip. “They appear to have some sort of shield technology to mask their presence here.”

“They look like scientists,” Jim mused, “don’t they look like scientists?” He chanced a glance back at his First Officer in time for him to look up from his tricorder and meet his eyes.

“Affirmative, Captain, likely here for the very same reason as us.”

Jim sat back on his heels, frustration mounting as he realized that this was the moment where he was not quite sure how to proceed. He had faced obstacles, too many to count, and yet this one left him thinking of nothing but static. There was a potential for danger here that they had not anticipated, especially given the planet’s hospitality to a multitude of terrifying, carnivorous creatures… but at the moment they were not facing it. How should he proceed? They needed to vacate the area - yet they were also presented an opportunity to potentially glean some insight into an enemy that was normally held at arm’s length unless you were about to be killed following painful questioning. However, backtracking their steps might reveal just how closely they had come to discovery without even knowing danger was present. How narrowly had they missed meeting the wrong end of a disrupter?

“What do you think, Mr. Spock?” He shifted, looking again to his First Officer and desperately hoping he had a logical conclusion. Beside him, Ensign Xu was quivering, the tip of her phaser dancing in the air, a very weak expression of the steady readiness he knew Officer Gark held on his other side. They were awaiting his orders.

“I think it might be best to--” Jim never had the opportunity to hear what wonderful insight Spock was about to bring to the situation - a phaser whined next to his ear and discharged at the same time a nervous shriek was let loose.

Ensign Xu’s phaser single-handedly alerted every single Romulan in the area to their presence.

The Captain had seen the results of her phaser accuracy exams, he had vetted this with his Chief of Security before signing her to the landing party. Her shot was excellent. Even with the stress on the first away mission and an active situation, he was still more than a little confused when her phaser discharged in his direction. The completely horrified and confused expression that tore across her face mirrored his own sentiments as pain seared in his shoulder when the blast hit, knocking him back into Spock behind him. His body seized violently, teeth clenched painfully, and his lungs refused to draw breath. The only thing that saved him from crumpling to the ground in a stunned heap was the arms of his First Officer circling around him faster than Jim could comprehend that he had been shot. In a fit of clarity, he was very thankful that the phasers had been set to their lowest intensity.

Then, the clarity vanished. Like he was not fully existing inside his own body, and was indeed very far away, he realized he had been scooped up and cradled. He distantly heard Spock call the order for immediate retreat, and the group dashed back through the foliage the way they had come. Hopefully, he thought as the greenery whipped past, before the Romulans realized what had happened and did not give immediate chase.

Good fortune, however, was disinclined to smile down on them after the first burst of positive luck, and the enemy aliens did immediately give chase, weapons drawn and firing rapidly. As they ran, Jim felt his mind resettle back into his own head and he gradually became aware of all of his limbs; he wrapped his arms around Spock’s neck to steady them as his First Officer zig-zagged between trees. He wished for his phaser, left behind in the dirt, so he could fire back at the aliens that were swiftly closing the distance between them.

“There!” Officer Gark called, “we might be able to lose them in that canyon.”

The group swerved, slip-sliding down a shallow embankment and Spock’s arms tightened around Jim who was immediately assaulted by the realization of exactly how closely their bodies were pressed together. He suppressed the desire to demand to be let down, knowing the action would slow them down and uncertain as to how well his own legs would support him - his toes were still tingling and he wiggled them in his boots.

They burst into the opening that cut into the hillside, trees and bushes giving way to packed dirt and rock. They dodged around boulders, and slipped unseen into shadows, the shouts of the Romulans behind them growing more and more distant as they pushed further in. And, because Jim was the only one looking behind them over Spock’s shoulder as they ran, he was the only one that noticed one particular boulder hid a very convenient cave.

“Wait - stop!” he hissed into Spock’s ear, who immediately ground to a halt, calling the rest of the group to do so as well. “Double back, there’s a place we can hide.”

“Oh my gods, oh my gods, o-oh gosh--” Ensign Xu repeated, panicked, eyes wide with fear and probably guilt. She stared at her Captain as they ducked into the jagged outcropping of stone that widened into a fairly substantial cavern, hidden from view and the back of which was shrouded entirely in shadow. Apologies, awkward and jumbled, began to pour from Xu’s mouth in a confused tangle of syllables and sentiment.

“Ensign,” Spock spat, gently setting the Captain back onto his own two feet, hands resting on Jim’s shoulders - just in case. “I am fairly confident the Captain heard your apologies the first time you uttered them and now would be an opportune time to cease if you do, indeed, desire to prevent our rediscovery.” Her mouth snapped closed. The small group of Spock’s team of scientists filed past them, further into the recess of the cave and away from the mouth as the shouts of enemy aliens drew closer again; Officer Gark posted himself at the entrance, leaning just out of view, phaser held steady and at the ready.

Jim faced Xu and sighed, kindly, smiling. He said, “it’s quite alright, Xu. If anything, this will be something to laugh at later. Besides, how many people can boast of shooting the captain?” He tried to laugh, but Spock was tugging him further into the darkness against his chest. Xu swallowed audibly and opened her mouth to speak, but the Romulans suddenly appeared, in a flurry of activity, dashing through the canyon and right past their hiding place.

Spock grabbed at him, yanking him back and Jim reached out, taking a firm hold of Ensign Xu and pulling her with them. She stumbled, falling against his chest and he held her there, securely, willing her to be silent as the aliens ran past without a second glance, shouting.

The cave was a collective of held breaths, tense and quivering with anticipation. The thundering of heavily-booted feet roared past their hidey-hole, the sounds ricocheting off the stone walls. Eyes ever forward, the Romulans kept up their chase and passed by without looking back.

When the angry voices faded into the distance, Jim looked down at the officer pressed up against him; she was staring up at him with very wide eyes.

“Oh wow,” she breathed out, “you are very close.”

Had there been more lighting, she would have seen how his cheeks heated. He released her and she took two steps back. Spock, he noted and his cheeks grew warmer still, did not relax his own hold and instead his fingers tightened, ten painful points of contact on Jim’s arms.

There was only one thing to do, and he reached for his communicator and flipped it open, turning in Spock’s grasp to look up at his First Officer; his expression was as stone as the cavern walls around them.

“Kirk to Enterprise.”

“Scotty here,” came the crackled response.

“We require immediate extraction - can you get a hold on our location?” He paused for the affirmative; Spock’s fingers relaxing only minutely, “beam us up, Scotty.”

Despite the lack of physical evidence of an injury, the Doctor was on him, medical tricorder in hand and whirring, the moment he rematerialized on the transporter pad.

“I know you Jim,” he said through gritted teeth, “when you request an emergency beam-up, something’s slipped sideways and you’ve probably been injured.”

“I’m fine, Bones,” he said at the same time as Spock, “he was shot by a phaser.”

The Doctor cried out in pained disbelief as Jim pinned his Officer with a soured scowl.

“Traitor,” he said as Bones pulled him away, very likely towards the Medbay. Spock followed, hands clasped behind his back.

"Why am I surprised? Only you, Jim, would be confused by which end points out."

The Captain met his First Officer's eye and very deliberately did not correct the doctor as he said, lightly, "oh you know how it is, panic in the moment. Surprise Romulans is not an exercise available in the combat training holodeck."

"Maybe it should be," Bones muttered, pushing the Captain into the turbolift. Spock's eyebrow reached astronomical heights as he followed.

“I shall commission the program to be created this evening, sir,” he said, stepping beside the doctor.

“You do know I’m actually fine, right?” Jim sighed.

“You’re not a medical professional, Jim.”

“I concur with the doctor, Captain.”

Jim pouted, but resigned himself to a complete medical workup. Spock stayed nearby then escorted him back to the Bridge once Bones gave the all clear.

“You do not intend to pursue disciplinary action against the Ensign,” he said as they walked. It was phrased as a statement, but Jim knew him well enough to hear the ‘why?’ at the end of it.

“Having Xu disciplined for an accident will not help her,” he paused as they rounded the corner before the turbolift bay and Spock also stopped walking when he realized the Captain was no longer at his side. “She needs encouragement, not harsh words from me. Besides, I’m fine!” He spread his hands by way of demonstration and Spock frowned. He could not disagree, they both knew, but his concern was heavy between them.

“Ashayam-” Spock started and Jim stepped into his personal space, grinning brightly.

“I’m fine, Spock,” he said, taking one of Spock’s hands and holding against his chest where he would feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat. “A little sore, but I’ve had much worse.”

“That is what troubles me,” the admission was spoken quietly and only because they were alone in the narrow corridor. He did not offer up such proof of emotion idly or in the presence of others. Jim pulled Spock’s hand to his face and pressed it to his cheek, turning so he could kiss the palm of it. There was nothing he could say that would dampen the disconsolation of the unknown, only offer assurance that, right now, in this moment, all was well.

#i mean this counts right? right??? aaaaah #spirk #ficlet #apple writes #star trek #i feel its not my best #but i had fun writing it haha and really #thats the friend we make along the way - enjoyment #at least i hope #that's what im always aiming for... hmm #btsmee

11 notes · View notes

toast-the-unknowing · 4 years ago

Note

Lmaoooooo “when I grow up I’m going to have so much amnesia” pls just post whatever you’ve written over the last ten years I am so INTRIGUED

Well, the subject line is a Futurama quote, I can’t take credit for that, alas.

I am fond of several of the jokes in that story, but at the end of the day, it’s a mystery and I wrote 20k words of it without ever deciding what the answer to the mystery is. The odds I’ll ever bother figuring it out now are slim, especially since I look back and realize...you know...I’ve become a much better writer than I was 10 years ago and most of those 20k words aren’t great.

But some of them I like! So what the hell, why not, here’s some of my favorite bits from a Star Trek 2009 fic that will probably never otherwise see the light of day:

The whole thing with Kirk and Spock losing their memories on the same away trip is funny for a total of three seconds before it becomes utterly terrifying.

Okay, maybe there's about five minutes of Hikaru making himself sick trying to hold in laughter at the stunned stupid look on Kirk's face as he steps onto the bridge, the way that Spock mutters "what an ingenious invention" after they're beamed back to the Enterprise, but hey, Hikaru's only human. And now so is Kirk, stripped of that cockiness that comes from knowing he's survived all kinds of crazy shit that he shouldn't have, and so is Spock in a way, since he seems to have forgotten all his Vulcan mind-master training along with everything else.

And that thought is what wipes the smirk off Hikaru's face and has him exchanging sideways glances with Chekov, because they're right on the edge of Klingon space, Kang had sworn eternal vengeance against the entire crew the last time they'd seen him, and without Kirk's impossible ability to get them out of everything he gets them into, Hikaru doesn't like their odds of escaping a skirmish unharmed.

McCoy skips right over the part where anything about the situation is amusing and even skips over the "utterly terrifying" part and opts straight for angry yelling before the doors of the turbolift have finished opening to allow him onto the bridge.

"What the devil are you playing at now, Jim?" McCoy demands, striding up to Kirk and waving a tricorder at him that he can't possibly be reading, since he's too busy venting at Kirk's face to look at the machine.

The effect of this is apparently lost on the amnesiac Kirk, who looks over his shoulder trying to figure out who McCoy is talking to.

Right. No one told the Captain his name was Jim.

"We're doomed," Chekov whispers to Hikaru, who wholeheartedly agrees.

"More tests?" Hikaru asks Chapel. Hikaru hopes he sounds world-weary but in all likelihood he just sounds like a kid whining about not wanting to go to the dentist's. At least when he was a kid his parents would give him some candy to make the whole experience more bearable.

"You've failed them all so far," Chapel tells him.

"Doesn't being healthy count as passing?"

"Not in his Sickbay." She gestures over her shoulder at McCoy, who is ranting to the nurses that he washes his hands of Hikaru, complete with actually physically washing his hands, because McCoy has no concept of subtlety.

Maybe it was just the terrible psychological burden of working too long under McCoy that had made her a sadist. Hikaru had helped the med staff repair and restock Sickbay after a disastrous encounter with Romulans, and after two days of McCoy's crazy-eyes drilling into the back of his skull, he hadn't felt terribly generous toward his fellow sentient beings. Kirk, who always had to be perverse and do the opposite of what a normal person would do, had been invigorated by the experience and set some kind of mountain-climbing record on the next planet they stopped at.

McCoy must be having a field day, wherever he is; nothing makes him happier than a legitimate reason to be unhappy.

He winces and walks over to answer the door, to find Chekov's curly head bouncing around with an upbeat energy that makes Hikaru feel a thousand years old.

"What?" he asks. "Communicator doesn't work?"

"You didn't answer," Chekov points out, which is probably correct. Hikaru hadn't been aware of anything, much less the chirp of a communicator.

"You know," he tells Chekov, stepping back into his room so he can change into a fresh uniform, "when someone is annoyed with you, telling them how it's their fault doesn't make them like you any better. It just makes them more annoyed."

Chekov blinks big, hurt eyes at him. "You are annoyed with me?"

Hikaru just sighs and lets it go. "So what do I need to be told so badly?" he asks, slipping on a new pair of pants and pulling his shirt off. "I'm guessing that if it were good news, it could wait."

"We have Klingons," Chekov tells him, completely matter-of-fact, and Hikaru is never going to share with anyone, least of all Chekov, the fact that his immediate response to this was to think Russians really are that stoic.

His next thought is that he has to get to the bridge, now, so he sets off at a run with Chekov following along behind.

His third thought, that he never did finish getting dressed, takes its own sweet time occurring to him, specifically waiting until the doors to the Bridge open and Uhura looks at him, blinks her eyes at a momentary loss for words, and then smirks.

In retrospect, it will feel pretty good to have made Uhura happy about something in the middle of this whole clusterfuck. At the time, Hikaru just wonders how bad it could really be to eject himself out the nearest airlock.

"Had a disagreement with your uniform, Mr. Sulu?" Uhura asks. "Or have your just decided that today is a good day for swashbuckling?"

Hikaru plays it cool, because there are only so many options available for you when you show up to battle without a shirt on, and because there's an appreciative look in the eyes of more than one person on the Bridge that reminds him that his shirtlessness is not, in and of itself, anything to be ashamed about. "I wanted to be on hand as soon as possible to help with the situation, sir," he tells her, voice completely smooth. He falls into a formal at-ease position that draws the muscles in his chest tight, causing someone to whistle lowly.

The Acting Captain is actively fighting back laughter at this point; Uhura is going to give him shit about this for the rest of his natural life, but then again, Klingons, so Hikaru can't begrudge her trying to make the most of it now in case the rest of his natural life is only another ten minutes. "Mr. Chekov, please restrain your dramatics in the future," she tells him, and the ensign takes on a look of righteous outrage that is decades older than his face. "Perhaps you could have communicated to Mr. Sulu that another second or two's delay would not have been fatal."

"I thought it obvious, sir," Chekov says, primly. "No Russian would charge into battle in such a state of unpreparedness."

"Because they'd freeze to death on a summer's day," Hikaru mutters.

"How?" Uhura asks, with that same fake innocent tone she uses when she's trying to convince everyone at the table that she's got a shit hand, and dammit, Hikaru has fallen for that bluff too many times. After which he was often divested of an article of clothing, oddly enough, so the whole thing is starting to feel really familiar.

Kang is even willing to deal with someone who isn't Kirk, as long as Kirk is there to have accusations and insults hurled at him, which is some kind of horrible metaphor for command but Hikaru is still trying to force his jaws together and doesn't quite appreciate the many, many cosmic jokes that are unfurling in front of him.

Every single person on the bridge of the Enterprise who still has a brain freezes and darts their eyes to the view screen at the exact same second. Later that simultaneity would make Hikaru wonder why the hell the dancing had been so uncoordinated in the crew's performance of Pirates of Penzance, since clearly they are all psychically linked to each other. Or perhaps psychic connections require substantial motivational force. Few things are more substantial or more motivating than enraged Klingons, and – as every eyeball except two immediately takes in – they have one hell of an enraged Klingon on their hands.

"WHAT CHARADE IS THIS," Kang demands, spitting out 'charade' like it's the dirtiest word he knows. Apparently Klingon honor doesn't have much time for theater. Hikaru wonders what Klingons do for embarrassing social bonding in lieu of Pirates of Penzance.

"Oh, good, so we can tell them that we aren't responsible, they'll listen to that and act reasonable," McCoy mutters, before jabbing Kirk with something on the pretense of getting more brainwave readings. McCoy has been dragging Kirk around the ship with him all morning for reasons as yet unexplained. Hikaru's torn on thinking it's to cause more havoc, since every little thing that happens inspires a thousand pointless questions from the deposed captain, and thinking it's so he can stab at Kirk like some stress relief toy. It doesn't seem to be working, but modern science has not yet found a conduit big enough to channel McCoy's stress, so that would be asking a bit much to ask from a guy who needed help going to the bathroom earlier. (Hikaru made Chekov do it. That's what ensigns are for, right?)

Chapel had proclaimed the whole thing hogwash and said she would get around to it when she had a minute, and implied that that minute was going to be a long time coming, because apparently that attitude was handed down with command of Sickbay like the crown of a hereditary monarch.

Besides, there's the Klingons to consider, and even Scotty can't make hooch so strong it wipes out the memories of people on other ships. Probably. Hikaru will ask him about it when his memory is back, and they will write a paper together, "A Transwarp Theory of Moonshine", and it will ruin both of their chances of ever advancing up the command chain, which would probably suit Scotty just fine and would be the best thing to ever happen to Hikaru if it means he never has to deal with a mess like this again.

"When we get to the point where we're recruiting untested specialists from alternate dimensions to solve the problem, just leave me brainless," Chapel scoffs. "I don't want to know."

Hikaru scribbles a note to himself. Evil clones running the Enterprise becomes Plan Y; stealing versions of themselves from other dimensions becomes Plan Z. He thinks they have a better chance of un-fixing the teleporter to make clones again than of making it pull people from other dimensions.

Chekov bounds down the hall at him – speaking of teenagers – and apparently the gloom is rolling off Hikaru thick enough to strike down an enthusiastic ensign at fifty paces, because the spring goes right out of Chekov's step when Hikaru looks at him. His faces turns somber and he tugs on his uniform shirt like he's worried about wrinkles. Or maybe he just remembered that this is a catastrophe in the making and a little gravity is called for.

He nearly takes it too far, though, going for a salute and Hikaru thinks that if Chekov salutes him right now he will actually go insane. He intercepts Chekov's arm on the way up and drops it back down like its covered in nettles. Chekov looks a little confused about how to proceed from here, but hell, the kid's always telling them he's a genius, let him figure something out.

He picks up Chapel like a leech; when he refuses to stop in Sickbay she just attaches herself to him and starts talking every bit as rapidly as Hikaru is walking. He can't tell how she's breathing. Maybe she isn't. Hikaru feels a little bit like he isn't breathing, either, or that might just be his flair for the dramatic.

He gets distracted, too, by the nurse who is accompanying Chapel, holding several PADDS and a medical tricorder and struggling to hold it all and drop nothing and keep up on her rather short legs. Maybe they could slow down for her, but hell, Chapel's her boss and isn't worried.

Hikaru can't remember the nurse's name. That's a panicky moment, but no, it's just that she's new. Should he ask her name, he wonders, or would that be rude? As the captain, however temporary or inglorious the title may be, he should know everyone on the crew already.

At least the crew is making that easier on him by shrinking.

"Stress is every bit a real, medical problem, particularly among young men in high-pressure situations who think they're immortal." This comes with a side order of meaningful look.

"I assure you, Nurse, I am well-aware of my failings."

"And I'm seeing drastically heightened stress all over the ship. Heart rate, blood pressure, shaking, forgetfulness -- not amnesia -- emotional outbursts -- "

"Maybe the crew doesn't like having medical personnel hovering all around them." Hikaru jumps as the short nurse waves her tricorder over him, presumably getting a reading of his own heart rate, blood pressure, and emotional outbursts. "I'm open to any suggestions about how to lower the crew's stress levels, up to and including Ensign Chekov going door to door singing Russian lullabies."

"I'll put that down as Plan Z," Chapel says, and holy shit, can she read his mind? He makes himself think profusely repentant thoughts for his attitude the last two days and also for that time he sneaked a look at her hand at poker, just in case. Also, he probably shouldn't play poker with Chapel anymore, honest or otherwise, if she can read his mind.

That, that right there, is apparently what Chapel looks like when she is truly outraged and not just annoyed or sarcastic or feeling superior, which is a valuable piece of information and Hikaru files it away in the very sincere and fervent hope that he never sees it again.

"You know, just, some people," the Acting Captain of the Federation Starship Enterprise mumbles into his shoulder.

"How did we get here?" Hikaru mutters. He's barely even realized he's spoken, so it's doubly alarming when Chekov jumps up and grabs his shoulders, shakes them violently.

"Sulu, no, you cannot have amnesia, too," the kid starts babbling. Why is it that his accent gets easier to understand when he's worked up? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Unless, hang on, has the kid been faking his accent this whole time? "Then I will have to take command of the Enterprise and while that is a thing I have dreamed of doing, it is no good to me if no one is around to admire."

#not a fic #my work #Anonymous

1 note · View note

annoyedfanfiction · 5 years ago

Text

Security Chief

Pike x fem!reader (2)

“(Y/N)!” Number One interrupted your interrogation of the adamantly silent lizard-creature, who was snarling unintelligibly back at you. “Yes Yllka?” you stepped out of the cell, turning to her. “You need to go to medbay and get checked,” she answered, sternly. You looked over at Leila in betrayal, and she smiled, sheepishly, holding up her hands in surrender. “No, the girl was right to call me. Come on, një budalla (silly one).” “Hey!” you protested, following her anyway. You weren’t one to resist the vice-like grip your sister had on your wrist. “Trap (asshole).” “Now now, little sister,” Una smiled, “Be nice.” You glowered at her, but took up step beside her. “Si është kapiteni (how is the captain)?” you inquired, as the doors of medbay came into sight. “You would know if you’d come here like you were meant to,” she answered, serenely. “Yllka!” you complained, tugging her to a stop. Her expression softened more sympathetically this time. “They have stabilised him, but they do not know when he will wake up.” She pulled you forward again. “You can see him when you’ve been checked.” Medbay was fairly quiet now, from the rush of activity it had been when you’d dropped off one of your officers earlier. Everyone with minor injuries had left, leaving only a couple of security officers and several engineers who wanted to know ‘who the bastards who jumped our ship’ were.

“Wondered when I’d see you in here, (Y/N),” Culber noted, amusedly, as your sister shoved you towards the biobeds. “Always a pleasure, Doctor,” you smiled, easily. “I’m afraid I’ve been rather busy with our prisoners, but you’ll thank your darling husband for me, won’t you?” You grinned, wickedly. “I might have to get him to make some more of those mushroom bombs.” Hugh laughed, shaking his head as he ran the tricorder over you. “He’ll be delighted to hear you’re embracing the mushrooms,” he answered, frowning at the tricorder. “Are you aware that you’ve been walking around with a –” You lunged forward and covered his mouth, successfully muffling his voice. “Yllka, I think you’re wanted on the bridge,” you suggested, offering a tight, sheepish smile to your sister. She glowered at you, but turned away anyway. “Don’t think me not hearing this will get you out of anything, motër (sister).” She scolded, as you released Hugh and sat back on the biobed, apologising. “...fractured collarbone,” he finished, retrieving an osteogenic stimulator. “I’ll clean your cuts, and give you some ice for those bruises, but nothing else is serious. Get comfortable, this will take at least two hours.” “Can I see the Captain first?” you chanced, imploringly. He sighed, rolling his eyes. He’d known you’d ask eventually – he was surprised when your sister brought him in instead of you, until he’d learned there were prisoners. “I’ll clean your cuts and fetch some ice, then you can sit by his bedside all you want while your collarbone mends, alright?” “You and your husband are the true MVPs of this ship, Dr Culber.” He looked back at you over his shoulder as he retrieved two electronic ice packs and some antiseptic. “And you are the ultimate suck up, Commander (L/N),” he told you, flatly.

Chris was almost the same colour as the sheets he lay on. Second day stubble beginning to shadow his jawline, as Hugh clipped the osteogenic stimulator onto your shoulder for the second day in a row. “You know, you are allowed to move when this isn’t on,” he teased, pointedly. “Just not to interrogate prisoners, that’s a little too likely to go wrong.” “Then what’s even the point, Hugh?” you asked, melodramatically. You both knew why you really hadn’t left, but he was kind enough to just chuckle and step away, as the machine began to whir over your broken collarbone. The quiet blips of Chris’ monitor set a steady metronome that would have annoyed you any other day, but this evenly timed announcement of his heartbeat wasn’t something you’d turn down when he looked, in all other ways, like death. “Never could shut the fuck up, could you?” you muttered, the hand that wasn’t limp at your side under the regen unit pressed into his. His wound had bled for the last day, but it was drying now so he didn’t need another transfusion. “Even when it’d keep you alive.”

“You are incredibly rude to those you love,” a familiar voice commented from the doorway. You smiled as Spock stepped into your vision, unable to turn towards him. “It’s how I show affection.” You didn’t move your hand from Chris’. “Surely you must’ve noticed it from Una.” The young Vulcan tilted his head, but nodded, eventually. “Number One is... fierce in her defence of those she cares for,” he agreed, calmly. “As are you. It is unsurprising the Captain places such trust in both of you.” “As he does in you, also,” you pointed out, gently. “Christopher Pike is equally fierce in caring for his crew, just in a...gentler way. He has lost much, but it did not harden him as it did Una and I. Toughened, perhaps, but never hardened.” Spock watched you curiously, as you struck your thumb gently across the back of Chris’ hand. You looked up into the dark eyes that held far too much fear and hurt for such a young face, disguised by a placid expression, and you smiled gently at him. “He’ll come back to us, don’t worry. In the meantime, I don’t want you wandering without Leila, Michael, Una, or I with you, alright?” He inclined his head and you thought for a moment he would protest, but he nodded.

*the language Number One & the reader speak is Albanian, as the planet Illyria is named after a historical region around the Balkans. unfortunately, most of the Illyrian language has been lost so I couldn’t use it, but the closest descendant language is Albanian. I very well may have used it terribly pls correct me if I have; I used google translate*

#christopher pike #christopher pike x reader #pike x reader #star trek discovery #spock #michael burnham #number one #fem!reader #uss discovery #illyrian #illyria #star trek illyrian

18 notes · View notes

dreamthinkimagine · 6 years ago

Text

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Giggly

WARNING: sad!spock

For @plomeeksandmintjuleps

* BEEP BEEP BEEP *

The Chief Engineer slowly sat up in his bed, reached out his arm, and with his eyes still closed he patted his night stand looking for his alarm clock. This was annoying; the entire situation was annoying. He only got three hours of sleep because he was in the engine room all night trying to fix an urgent problem that if left unfixed would have cost everyone the Enterprise. So why did he have to get up to work even more at 6:00 AM again?

It wasn’t that he didn’t love his job or his ship; it was quite the opposite. He had built the ship himself and loved her as his baby. He was so dedicated to the Enterprise that when he lost his right middle finger while working on her, he tried to escape sickbay several times a day just to finish his work. But, like every parent, occasionally he was completely drained. He was exhausted; and as much as he wanted to stay in bed, he didn’t even want to imagine what would happen to his ship if he wasn’t in the engine room.

In fact, his love for the Enterprise would have kept him going on three hours of sleep, but not this time. Usually every parent likes a babysitter every now and then, but it was getting a little much. Kirk had slowly gotten into a habit of sending Spock down to the engine room to “assist” Scotty in his work. Spock may have started out as a babysitter, but he was now more like a nanny. Every time the half-Vulcan entered the room, Scotty felt more and more unsure about the captain’s faith in him. Why didn’t Kirk trust him anymore? What did he do? The fact that he didn’t even know why just added more exhaustion to the situation. Exhaustion was a weird feeling for him, usually his love for the ship would give him all the energy he needed and more; but since he felt like the Enterprise was being taken away...well...what else could he expect to feel?

He forced his sleep-filled eyes open and rubbed his face. His blanket felt as if it weighed fifty pounds as he lifted it off himself to get up. He set the shower on cold and made his hands into a cup. With the water that gathered in his hold, he splashed his face hoping that the shock would wake him, but it didn’t. Instead it only made him crave his nice, comfy, warm bed all the more.

Getting himself dressed was a hassle - he almost fell back asleep three times. He was so tired that he felt weak, his limbs even heavier than the blanket; his own body betraying him. If getting on the boots were tough before, pulling them up now was a hundred times more difficult. He yawned a deep yawn from within his core, the sound resonating inside him. Brushing his hair was usually an easy task considering the length, but today it felt like trying to detangle a couple fist-fulls of wires from the Enterprise’s mainframe.

“Computer. Date.”

“March 31st 2268.”

Even though his mind was alert, his body was not. The red-shirt wanted to work on the engines more, but doubted that his body would make it easy. He remembered a quote from Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, “The spirit is strong, but the flesh is weak.” Boy, is the flesh weak, he thought to himself as he trudged out of his quarters and into the hustle and bustle of a normal day on the Enterprise. He looked at the people in the hall and through his fatigue, it looked and felt as if everyone was moving in fast motion while he was left in the dust.

* * *

Having arrived in the engine room, he immediately forced his body to get to work and tested everything he had worked on just a few hours before, and it all worked perfectly. Better than perfect. And even though he was tired as heck, the pride he held for his own ship outweighed it.

Okay, so Kirk called it his own ship, and Scotty let him have his fun. Kirk said it was his, and yes he was in charge of it, but Starfleet assigned him to it in the first place. It even stayed on their property when it was on earth - at least until Scotty decided to retire, which he couldn’t even see himself doing for a long time. Kirk and Starfleet could say they owned it all they wanted, but Scotty knew better. He built it. It was his. You build it, you own it. It was his “Ol’ Girl.”

As Scotty was thinking, he was interrupted by a Red Alert. Soon after, Mr. Spock marched into the engine room and began to take over everything the Scotsman had previously been doing. Suddenly, Scotty had his energy back. He sighed before he even spoke.

“Mr. Spock, what are you doing here?”

“Captain’s orders.”

“But don’t you belong on the bridge? You can do more there. I’m the Chief Engineer. I can - and I do - handle everything here.” It was almost as if Kirk thought that the engineer didn’t know what he was doing.

“Normally, Mr. Scott, I would not doubt your abilities.” Okay, Scotty thought. That’s a bald-faced lie. “However, we are facing a life-force that we have never even seen before. The Captain, Dr. McCoy, and I feel that it would be most beneficial for all of us if I were to be here.”

“McCoy?!”

“He thought logically. Now, Mr. Scott, please be quiet as I am attempting to recalibrate the engines.”

“I can do that!”

“But there is no room for error, Mr. Scott.”

Error. Scotty decided to stand back and let Spock do his thing; completely shocked and broken by what he had said.

* * *

As the day went on, Scotty had time to process and think about what happened - and he was angry. He stormed into his room; barely able to keep himself from stomping his feet like a child. As soon as the door closed behind him he began punching his pillow. He threw it across the room and when he went to go get it, he shoved his face in it and screamed louder than he ever had before.

He collapsed onto his bed and just lay there thinking with a scowl resting on his face. How could Kirk, Spock, and McCoy have such little faith in him? After all he’d done? After all the times he was able to boost warp speed and save their lives? How could they just betray him like this?

He didn’t have a wife or children on earth. The last time he even tried to get with a woman he had been accused of murdering her and other women too. He had a sister and a nephew, but she didn’t want her boy to have anything to do with him or Starfleet because of a dispute.

His parents had died years ago and left him materials in their will to build his dream ship - the Enterprise. Even just having the “O’l Girl” made him feel sentimental about his parents; he thought of her as the last thing his parents gave him before they died. This infuriated his sister. She was left with her parents’ business - which she never wanted (not that they knew) and wasn’t left with anything to fulfill her own dreams. She was so jealous of her brother that she had ostracized him from her family ever since. His parents were both the only children in their families, so he had no aunts, uncles, or cousins. Now he had no one, except the Enterprise. This ship was his baby. She was all he had.

And apparently he wasn’t good enough for her.

***

The next morning he woke up early, still annoyed at the previous day’s events.

“Computer, what time is it?”

“It is 2:03 A.M. on Friday, April 1st 2268.” Scotty paused.

“Computer, what day is it?” he asked wanting to make sure he heard it right.

“April 1st.” April Fool’s Day. Perfect. He could get revenge and get away “Scott-free.” Maybe he could change the times on Kirk, Spock, and McCoy’s clocks? Maybe he could go old school and put saran wrap outside their doors so they'd walk into it. He kept thinking and then he remembered little capsules from his childhood that would freeze liquid. He'd drop them in his parents' coffee, water, stew, soup - anything liquid - on April Fool's day. Then it came to him; the idea exploding in his head. Their food. All he'd have to do was rewire the mainframe of the food synthesizer to mess up their orders. And since the machine recognized each person individually by their voice, he could have it only affect the three culprits. "Ready to help me pull a prank, Ol' Girl?" He asked the ship as he took up his tool bag and looped it around his neck and shoulder like a tricorder. "I'll fix ya right back up afterwards."

With that, he headed out of the room and passed through the hallways. The ship’s soft hum rang through the Scotsman’s ears and its low constant tone was the only sound present at this time of night. He snuck passed the doors along the walls, tiptoeing as quietly as a sleeping tribble - not that there would be any on his ship. Anymore...

His heart pounded within his chest as he trod through the long passageways; wary of the possibility that someone might emerge from their quarters and spot him. He carefully paid attention to his direction and his footing in an attempt to avoid that. If he woke someone up, they would definitely see him. Then they might wake other people. Or they might mistake him for an alien and hit him with the power of their phaser.

It was in the mist of his worries that he realized where he was - Captain Kirk’s room. He had to be especially careful here. Kirk was the Captain, and for all he knew, he could already be awake; and attracting his attention was the last thing he needed. If Kirk caught him - well, he didn’t like to think of the idea of getting fired and permanently taken away from his baby.

He carefully and slowly knelt down, took off his tools and slid them across the floor to the next door. He got on his hands and knees and crawled as slow as he could. When he heard himself breathing, he quickly held his breath for the journey across the entirety of Kirk’s room. Five feet down, he thought to himself, at least fifteen more to go. He sighed in relief when he reached his tools, for Kirk not having come out, and continued his trek. He had passed the Captain’s Quarters; there was no going back now.

He entered the Mess Hall and turned on the lights. Eyeing the synthesizer, he made his way over; feeling more determined with each step. He set his tool bag down on a table, took out what he knew he needed, and set to work.

“They’ll call me to fix it, and when I do, they’ll remember what I can do.”

However, he was so distracted, that he forgot one very important flaw in his plan...

***

“Tuna salad sandwich with a side salad and ice cold water.” Sulu said, and in a grand total of three seconds, the synthesizer gave it to him.

“Caesar salad and water” Uhura asked.

“Chicken nuggets and french fries with barbeque sauce and a medium root beer” was Chekov’s request. Kirk came up to the machine with an arguing Spock and Bones right behind him. Chuckling to himself, he placed his order.

“BLT and an iced tea.” But what came out was anything but that. Kirk looked at his tray in confusion. Sardines and light brown coffee. Kirk repeated his order, but this time got sunny side up eggs that were drowning in ketchup and water with an grapefruit slice in it instead of the typical lemon. He didn’t even like grapefruits. Kirk sighed in defeat and walked to a table slightly annoyed. He set his tray down and went to the comm on the wall and called down to engineering. Spock stepped up for his food next.

“Plomeek soup,” but he was soon presented with a mountain of salt with a splash of tomato sauce on top, a side of asparagus, and a strawberry milkshake. McCoy asked for a well-done stake with mashed potatoes and green beans with a mint julep; and got prunes, a bowl of hot sauce, canned meat, and cranberry juice. Back at the table, the men looked at each other’s food and pondered what the problem could be.

“While we wait for Scotty, why don’t you take a look at it, Spock?” Once he was examining the machine, Kirk told McCoy that Scotty sounded a little too eager to help. “I’m going to head back to my quarters and check the security footage.”

Kirk’s stomach growled as he marched out of the mess hall and down the hallways. He was sure Scotty was behind this - accidentally or purposefully. And he was pretty sure it was on purposeful. His day had already been stressful enough already, and now this too? He wasn’t mad because his food was messed up, but because his friends’ orders were messed up. Spock and Bones were integral to the operation of this ship, they needed their strength, energy, and their best concentration. No food meant none of those. Plus, they didn’t deserve this.

“Computer,” he said as soon as his room’s door closed behind him. “Play the security footage from last night until now.”

***

Back in the mess hall, twenty minutes has passed when the comm on the wall made a beeping noise and Sulu answered.

“Sulu, send Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy down to my quarters. I need to see them immediately.”

“Is everything alright, Sir? What’s the emergency?”

“No emergency. Just a pest problem.”

“The tribbles aren’t back, are they?”

“Don’t even joke about that. Just get them here.”

“Yes, Sir.”

***

“What’s going on, Jim?” Bones asked as he and Spock entered the room.

“Look at this,” he said and played the footage. His computer screen was split into many squares, each with a different piece of footage playing. Several cameras captured Scotty roaming the halls with his tool bag - including all the stunts he pulled just to get across Kirk’s room - but one square, shown at the top right of the screen, revealed Scotty tampering with a perfectly working synthesizer.

And it captured everything.

It captured which exact tools he used, how he took off a piece of the front and was able to crawl inside. It seized the moment when he emerged covered in sweat and his hair messy and clinging to his forehead. It caught the wrinkles in his face when he smiled, even his breathing. And it recorded his fatal words, “That’ll show 'em.” Kirk turned around in his chair to speak, but McCoy did first.

“Well, that explains why he was able to fix it in five minutes.”

“What?”

“You did call for Mr. Scott to come up and repair it, Captain,” Spock added.

“Doesn’t matter. He messed with my crew. Both of your jobs require you to have the proper food and he took that away. When I get my hands on him - “

“I can assure you, Captain, our food has indeed been replaced.”

“We got exactly what we wanted to eat, so you can calm down. Besides, have you seen the date?”

“What’s the date got anything to do with it?”

“It’s April 1st!” Bones said.

“April Fool’s Day?” Jim questioned. “But then why did he say it’d show us? No one else’s order got messed up - just ours.”

“He’s around us a lot and we’re on a social level where we can pull practical jokes on each other. Everyone’s fine, no one’s hurt, and he’s too loyal for true sabotage. I think it was just a harmless prank.” Jim took a moment to carefully think about what Bones said and absorbed it like a sponge. It was April Fool’s Day, Scotty had switched up the synthesizer, quickly fixed it, and then replaced their food. The more he thought about it he began to realize that it really was just a minor inconvenience; and Scotty was close enough with them to pull a small joke. Plus, Bones was right - there was no real harm done. Soon enough, all the anger that Jim had toward Scotty was drained from his body and was replaced with mischief.

“You’re right, Bones. It was just a joke. Since it’s still April 1st, how about we pull a little prank on our little engineer?”

***

Scotty waltzed through the hall humming to himself with his chest puffed out, proud that he showed McCoy, Kirk, and Spock that he knew what he was doing. It was small, but he felt confident that this incident would remind the Captain of his abilities and would soon enough quit his nasty habit of sending Spock to the Engine room. What he didn’t expect was, as soon as he got in his quarters, to be tackled, pinned, and tickled in all of two seconds.

“Whahahat?” But when he forced his eyes open and saw the dreaded three, fiery anger blazed within him. He mustered all his strength at once and rolled out from underneath them, completely taking his attackers by surprise. After a second to process what had just happened, they quickly tried to get up, but Scotty interrupted them. The shock of his anger kept them frozen in place.

“You think this is funny,” he yelled. “You think this is a joke?! A game?!” Scotty’s breathing became heavier, the veins in his neck bulging through skin. A beat of silence passed by, although to the current pranksters, it felt much longer. Finally, Spock broke the silence.

“I did advise you against this, Captain.” Jim tried to say something back, but was cut off.

“Spock, I’m so sick of your - “

“Scotty!” Jim yelled, getting up. “What the devil is wrong with you?! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Oh, so now you care what I think,” the Scotsman yelled as he stepped closer to Kirk. “You didn’t care at all what I though about the ‘help’ in my engine room!”

“What are you talking about?” Spock and McCoy slowly emerged from their positions on the ground. They didn’t get as close to the red-shirt as their Captain was, but they were still ready to pounce in case things went even more south.

“Of course you don’t know! You don’t know that I can operate this ship either! Let alone the engines! That’s why I fiddled with the synthesizer and fixed it again!” Kirk’s anger only grew.

“I thought that was a joke, but now-”

“What? You think I’m the joke now?” Scotty’s hands turned to fists.

“What has gotten into you?! You step down right now,” Kirk said with a sense of sternness that matched the engineer’s anger. He tilted his head down to show his draining patience.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?! It was revenge! You don’t think I’m capable of running engineering, so you send that Vulcan down! You did, McCoy did, and Spock thought it would be ‘logical’ if he came down because Scotty can’t do anything without making an ‘error’! I’m sick of it!”

“We’d never seen that alien species before,” Bones cut in. “I just thought having two down there might - “

“Shut up, McCoy!”

“Mr. Scott, I will not have this kind of talk on my ship!”

“You’re ship?!”

“Yes, my ship. I’m the Captain, so it’s my ship.”

“I built it! I designed it!”

“For Starfleet!” Kirk was about to put Scotty on probation when he yelled again.

“From designs I was already working on before they asked me to build them a ship! I could’ve drawn up different designs, but I thought Starfleet could use a ship like this - my dream ship!” In his anger, he splurted out something he never wanted to discuss with anyone; let alone his Captain. “The same dream ship my parents left me materials to build it with in their will! The same ship that drove my sister and I apart! That’s why I can’t even see my only nephew!” A silence rested between them. “She’s all I have...and you don’t think I’m good enough for her.” Why did I just say that?

“...Scotty, I -”

“Please...just leave.” The three of them filed out of his room allowing him to be alone and regret what he had said.

***

In his quarters, Spock lay wide awake as he stared at his ceiling thinking about the day’s events. For someone who refused to show emotion, he had a lot of them. He was furious at the things Scotty said against his Captain and McCoy. He could almost once again feel the anger boiling within his being, the struggle to keep a straight face, and the focus to steady his breathing to not show any emotion. How badly he wanted to neck pinch him just a few short hours ago, but to do so without a direct threat to Kirk’s well being would have been illogical.

He was sad. He remembered being bullied as a child for his human half. He remembered how the Vulcan children saw him as, well, not as intelligent as they were. Was he making Scotty feel the same way? Even if he hadn’t made him feel that way exactly, he was certain that he had lost the engineer’s respect. And, even though he wasn’t one to even talk about emotions, he felt that that was the saddest of all. He had only felt this kind of pain once before - when he lost his father’s respect after going against his wishes and joining Starfleet.

He felt sorry. He yearned for things to go back as they had been. He wanted to fix it. He had to - he was not about to lose his friend as he had his father.

He was determined.

***

The next night, Scotty stayed behind in engineering, working to improve his engines. Alone. The episode from the night before had been playing on loop in his head since the incident had happened. All day all he could think about was, “Spock, I’m so sick of your...Oh, so now you care what I think...You think I’m the joke now?...It was revenge!...Scotty can’t do anything without making an ‘error’...Shut up, McCoy!”

“You’re ship?!”

“Yes my ship...The same ship my parents left me materials to build it with in their will...I can’t even see my own nephew!...She’s all I have...and you don’t think I’m good enough for her...”

“Scotty, I -”

“Please...just leave...” He was so lost in his own flashback, that, an hour later, he didn’t hear the door open.

“Scotty.” Reluctantly, the engineer turned around to face Kirk who had a satchel over his shoulder - and it didn’t even shock him when he saw Spock and McCoy there with him. “We want to talk about last night.” Upon hearing this, Scotty turned around again and got back to work. He dug his tools and gloved hands back into an engine as sparks flew; doing something Kirk wouldn’t be able to understand for the life of him - and they both knew it - because he wasn’t the Enterprise’s engineer.

“There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

“I didn’t understand how important this ship is to you. I never understood the sentiment.”

“I didn’t either,” Mccoy piped in. “I can’t say that for Spock because he doesn’t understand sentiment,” McCoy added sending a sarcastic look to the Vulcan; but for once, Spock decided to stay silent. He didn’t want to fight and annoy Scotty more.

“You weren’t supposed to know any of that. It’d do us all better to jus’ forget it happened.”

“Scotty, you’re good enough for this ship,” Kirk said. There was a silence from the engineer as he worked. “We know you’re more than good enough; and I’m sorry. We’re sorry.” Scotty’s silence still resonated, but he paused what he was doing. Kirk reached into his bag and pulled its only content out into the open for all to see. “So, we made this for you.” He turned his head and couldn’t believe what he saw.

In Kirk’s hands laid an Enterprise-shaped, stained, and polished wooden plaque with the words, “The Enterprise - NCC 1701 - Est. 2265.” Where the engine room was, it read, “Built and Owned By Montgomery James Scott.” Scotty’s eyes went wide as he slowly lowered his tools. His hands shook as he pulled off his gloves, never once taking his eyes of the glorious plaque stating his ownership of the Enterprise. As he walked over, Kirk spoke again.

“You built it, you own it. I even had Sulu take command of the ship for the day just so Spock and I could make it; and Bones stained and polished it.” Scotty gently took the plaque from Jim’s hands and grazed his fingers over the smooth and well polished wood. Barely touching it, he slowly ran the tips of his fingers over the name “Montgomery James Scott” and felt tears welling in his eyes. One trickled down his cheek as looked up from the plaque and at the three before him. Quickly, and without thinking, he pulled the three of them into a hug, hanging on tightly and not letting go.

“I can’t promise that I’ll never send Spock down here again, but I can promise that when you retire I will help you leave with this ship,” Kirk said. “Even if it means we have to steal it.”

“Thank you...Captain.” A few moments of silence passed before Scotty let go.

“I’ve gotta go put this on the wall,” he exclaimed, a wide smile gracing his face. He immediately grabbed his tools, picked a spot to display his prized plaque, and got to work. As the three of them watched his progress, McCoy leaned over and whispered something into Spock’s pointed ear and then Jim’s. Spock’s eyebrows went up and Jim smiled at the realization of Bones’ statement - it was true. How could he have forgotten?

“There,” Scotty said as he stepped back to marvel at it. “Now everyone will see it and know the Enterprise belongs to Montgomery Scott.”

“It looks beautiful there, Scotty,” Kirk said and placed a hand on his shoulder. ”However, there is one thing.” Scotty looked at him with caution, for he noticed a twinkle of mischief in Jim’s eyes. “It has been brought to my attention that we still owe you some revenge for the food synthesizer.” Scotty had a sudden flashback to when he was jumped the previous night and began to back up, a small smile already showing on his face. To be honest, he missed the camaraderie; the jokes, the playing. He missed their friendship.

“Oh no,” he said putting his hands up as he slowly backed away. Kirk playfully pushed him down and pinned an arm to the ground. As soon as the engineer was on the floor, he let Bones lay down and place his arm over his shins, putting all his weight on it by leaning; allowing him to both pin his legs and have easy access to the knees. Spock, still weary on Scotty’s opinion of him, stayed put.

“I’m pretty sure it’s OK now, Spock.” Spock stayed there, silently thinking about it for a minute; but seeing Scotty’s ever present grin, especially when the engineer looked at him, he knew it was alright. He got down on his knees and pinned his other arm with his Vulcan strength. “Sorry, Scotty,” Kirk said. “But, even though it’s your ship, I’m still the Captain; and I say that since you sabotaged our food you must suffer the consequences.” It was at that moment that Kirk gently skittered his fingers up the “poor” Scotsman’s underarm. The chief engineer gasped and with a wide grin stretched across his face, immediately tried to clamp his arm down; but Kirk had a strong hold of him. Satisfied with the reaction, he glanced at Spock, then at Bones; and then dug in. This was revenge after all; and he wasn't about to go lightly on him.

A few minutes later, Scotty began to cry through his laughter as McCoy quickly scratched his knees and Kirk and Spock attacked his stomach - his weakest point - with playful fury. They immediately got off, helped him up, and decided to take him to the mess hall for a treat from the synthesizer. However, he hadn’t been crying because of their revenge, but because as he had listened to them and looked at his new plaque, he knew that the Enterprise was no longer the only one he had.

#prompt #the idea of Spock in the engine room was based off a joke that James Doohan made #ticklish!scotty #had to google years #James Doohan made Montgomery Scotty's first name because it was his middle name so I headcanon that James is Scotty's middle name #WARNING: sad!spock #references to an episode #Star Trek TOS movie references

24 notes · View notes

grandtheftstarship · 6 years ago

Text

Way Out There (Leonard McCoy x Reader) [Songfic]

A/n: So this started off really small for the song and then it ended up going nearly 1000 words on after the song ends... oops. You don’t really need to listen, the lyrics just relate to the idea of the fic and are written in, but Lord Huron is a bop and I really recommend it :) If you want to play the song, start the music at the bolded sentence.

Summary: [y/n] finds out that the Enterprise crashed on Altimid and rushes to save Leonard, her boyfriend.

Word Count: 2226 Warnings: none :) Posted: Tumblr, Wattpad Requested: no

Link to Way out there by Lord Huron.

U.S.S Enterprise Missing.

The headline mocked you, grinning evilly from the page. Your eyes brimmed with tears, one person on your mind.

Leonard.

He was on the damn ship, and if you weren't recovering from Andorian Fever you would be too. Your chest tightened with grief at first, then loneliness then anger.

You readjusted your heading, now walking briskly towards Starfleet headquarters instead of the local Starfleet medical center. You knew Commodore Paris personally, she was a family friend, so hopefully, you could get in quickly and easily.

"Lieutenant {y/f/n] to see Commodore Paris," you told the receptionist, rapping your fingernails on the marble countertop.

"She's in a briefing, but they will be on break in a few minutes," she nodded at you, returning to her computer.

You thanked her and paced lightly in the adjacent waiting room. Five agonizing minutes later, the Commodore and several other Starfleet officials left the room, heading for the small cafe across the street. You rushed to her side, greeting her quickly.

"Do you have any information regarding the Enterprise?" you asked hastily. "Do you know who attacked them?"

"Nothing yet," she replied. "Do you have someone out there?"

You sighed looking down. "Yes. My boyfriend, Doctor Leonard McCoy."

"I see," she patted your shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you returned, fire burning in your eyes. "Commodore, I'm requesting a ship to go after them."

"Are you crazy?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "I'm not letting anyone out there until we can confirm a safe way through the nebula."

"But Ma'am-"

"No, [y/n]," she said firmly. "Your request is denied. It's not safe."

The commanding officers returning to the briefing room caught her attention.

"I have to go now," sympathy softened her face. "I'm sorry."

She removed her hand and walked back towards the open door. You looked on after her, the heavy feeling of defeat settling in your chest.

Then a crazy idea hit you. An idea so insane, it fell into Jim Kirk crazy. And it could 100% get you fired.

I'm a long way from the land that I left

I've been running through life and cruising toward death

If you think that I'm scared you've got me wrong

If you don't know my name, you'll know it now

I belong bodily to the earth

I'm just wearing old bones from those that came first

There are many more flames when mine is gone

They will build me no shrines and sing me no songs

Upon leaving the now empty waiting room, you made your way hastily towards the shipyard. You knew that there were a few small scout ships that were manned by one pilot. Filled with a newfound determination, you knew you would do anything to save your boyfriend. You swiped your keycard at the entrance. It was late and you didn't have much time before officers working there noticed a stray engineer attempting a case of "Grand Theft Starship". You tiptoed on board one of the survey vessels, shutting the door and getting straight to it.

I'm a long way from the one that I love

I've been tending old flames, lamenting what was

Drifting in a land time forgot

If you think that I've changed, you know me not

I belong bodily to the earth

I'm just wearing old bones from those that came first

I been unraveling since my birth

Gonna wander out there and see what I'm worth

Find me way out there

There's no road that will lead us back

When you follow the strange trails

They will take you who knows where

If I found a way to stay with you tonight

It would only make me late, for a date I can't escape

The vessel hummed to life, panic spiking through your core. You worked quickly, getting systems online like there was no tomorrow. As you engaged the thrusters, you began hearing the confused shouts of Starfleet officers trying to get you to land. Once you finally left the atmosphere, you cursed Bones and his stupid job. Rescuing his ass was so going to get you fired, and when you found him you were going to give him a piece of your mind. You were able to reprogram the maneuvering capabilities of the small vessel so you could get through the nebula unscathed. At warp three, you carried on.

Navigating through the nebula was one of the hardest things you had ever done. You managed to get through with only small damage to the hull, but your victory was short-lived. You eased the craft out of the cloud, jaw hitting the floor.

Find me way out there

There's no road that will lead us back

When you follow the strange trails

They will take you who knows where

If I found a way to stay with you tonight

It would only make me late, for a date I can't escape

Two nessels were floating aimlessly in front of you, the destroyed body of the ship not far from them. Tears brimmed your eyes as the saucer was nowhere to be found. You were distracted from your astonishment by the small beep of your sensor.

You couldn't believe your eyes. Your scan of the planet below showed you three groups of life forms. One was large, seventy-five to one-hundred or so life signs, while the other two were much smaller. You decided on landing near the group of four, praying the small dots on the screen were your friends and crewmembers.

"Keptin!" Chekov shouted, scrambling over the rocks towards Jim, Scotty, and Jaylah. "There's a scout ship heading straight for us."

He slowed down to catch his breath, having caught the captain's attention. "It's federation, sir."

"Are you sure?" he asked, moving towards Chekov and his tricorder.

"Yes sir," he replied, pointing to the small figure on his tricorder. "I am picking up Starfleet frequencies."

The low hum of your thrusters and the low crackle of you entering the atmosphere drew the group's attention from the small device. You maneuvered the stout vessel to a bare plot of land not far from them, landing softly on the patch of rock. Jim led his miniature crew towards your stolen ship, all anxiously waiting for the metal hatch to open and reveal who was behind the sudden change in dynamics.

The door thudded open whilst you finished shutting down the power to save the small amount of fuel you had left in case you needed it. You nearly threw yourself out of your chair when you finished, anxious to see who was outside.

"[y/f/n]?" Chekov gasped, rushing to the front of the small pack. "Боже мой, это действительно ты!" (Oh my god, it's really you!)

He rushed forward, nearly tripping on loose stones, and tackled you in a hug. Pavel was your best friend, besides Bones of course.

"How are you doing? How did you get here? Are you okay- are you still sick? You should be recovering-"

"Slow down!" you laughed, nudging his shoulder slightly. "I'll explain everything, but you have some things to tell me too, mister."

"Okay, so here's what went down," he began, already waving his arms around enthusiastically. "Basically, I was expertly navigating through this nebula when these teeny little ships caught my attention-"

You smiled at the captain, waving slightly as Pavel babbled on about the attack while leading you across the jagged terrain.

"That would explain the torn up ship floating about up there," you nodded towards the sky. "Thank god this planet is class M. I can't even think about how horribly worse this could have gone if you had crashed on a planet full of toxic gas or something."

"It is already quite a terrible situation," he followed your eyes up into the wispy clouds. They reminded you of those on Earth. "I mean, the attackers took all the crew members that managed to get into their Kelvin Pods. If I had used mine any earlier, I would have been taken as well."

You shuddered at the thought.

"Who are you?" an unknown voice spat from behind you, the hostility dripping from the spoken words catching you off guard.

"This right here is [y/f/n] [y/l/n]," Scotty clapped you on the shoulder. "The best assistant chief engineer one could ask for."

"Aw, shucks," you punched him lightly on the shoulder. "I try."

"[y/n], this is Jaylah," Scotty gestured to the white-faced alien, looking a little ruffled. You waved.

"Is this another one of your mates?" she asked, a little less harshly. Scotty nodded.

"You betcha."

By now, your little group had reached Jaylah's house. They explained to you how it got there, how Jaylah found it, and why nobody else had stumbled across it.

You brushed your fingers over the ancient technology. "Wow."

"There's not even a sickbay?"

Jim shook his head. "Nope. Bones would be pissed."

You giggled. "Speaking of, where is he?"

You knew instantly something was wrong.

"Jim," panic rose in your chest. "Where is he?"

He avoided your eyes.

"H-He's fine, right?"

"We don't know where Bones or Spock are," Jim said finally. "They were in the turbolift when the saucer was separated."

"We will find him, [y/n/n]," Chekov patted you on the shoulder. "Somehow, one way or another, we will find him."

You, Chekov, and Scotty worked for the next several hours to reprogram the transporter modules to allow a person to be beamed aboard.

"Done!" you called from underneath the transporter pad, a low hum of electricity proving your statement.

"Ура!"(Hooray!) Pavel cheered.

"Well done, lass," Scotty congratulated you as he helped pull you out.

"It was nothing," you replied, brushing yourself off. "I mean, you guys helped too."

Pavel interjected before Scotty could respond. "Hold on, I'm reading some... life signs?"

You and Scotty hurried to the panel he was looking at, and sure enough, two life signs blinked back at you.

"Beam them," Scotty muttered.

You turned to him. "What?"

"We can beam them here!"

"But what if they're hostile?" Chekov asked, fear flashing through his eyes.

"Then we'll... beam them back?"

"Wait, there are more coming!" you pointed back to the screen.

"What if they're crew members?"

"That wouldn't make sense, lad!"

When the two of them started arguing, more signs of life began appearing.

"What the hell," you murmured, locking on to one of the signals. The transport sounded a bit more static-y than you were used to but as you and the boys turned towards the pad, a familiar face greeted you.

"Lieutenant [y/l/n]?"

"Spock?"

Before you could hug him (even if he protested), he hobbled off the pad as urgently as he could.

"You must beam the doctor out of there."

Without missing a beat, you thrust yourself back at the panel and locked on.

Once the strange noise faded, you felt your stomach drop in relief.

"It feels like my innards have been to a barn dance," Leonard said, looking a bit green.

"These old transporters were mainly used for cargo, but a bit of maintenance did the trick," Scotty explained, slapping him on the shoulder. "Sorry, we had to beam you one at a time, to avoid being... misplaced."

"I couldn't imagine a worse scenario," Bones looked around the room before letting his eyes fall on your worried-slash-relieved complexion.

Your legs moved on their own accord, propelling you into Leonard's waiting arms. He held you so tight you weren't sure how much longer you could breathe.

Suddenly, he pushed you out of his arms, brows furrowed in a grimace.

"What the hell, [y/n], you're supposed to be recovering!"

His face melted back into worry and he pulled you back into his embrace.

"I'm so happy to see you, love."

You giggled. "I'm so happy you're safe."

He then, more gently this time, released you from the hug and grabbed your hands.

"I'm still mad at you for trekking all the way to this goddamn planet," he scolded, wearing worried and frustrated expressions simultaneously. "Thank god you weren't on the ship or I'm pretty sure I would have died from a damn heart attack."

"I'm fine, you big silly," you reassured him. "But, I'm pretty sure Spock isn't."

His face paled. "Shit."

He placed a quick, chaste kiss on your lips before rushing off to treat his patient.

You smiled sweetly as he rushed off, simply ecstatic he was alive and well.

#star trek #star trek imagines #star trek songfic #star trek x reader #star trek reader inserts #bones mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #leonard bones mccoy x reader #bones mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy x reader #lord huron #I LOVE LORD HURON SO MUCHH #leonard mccoy reader inserts #leonard mccoy aos #leonard mccoy aos x reader

146 notes · View notes

carrietrekkie · 5 years ago

Text

Exelor

Chapter I - Arrival

Hello!

So here it is, my new story! I tried it this time with some kind of “classic” star trek story. Cathrin gets in her duty on board of the Enterprise and her first mission gets an unexpected turn.

I hope you all like it and if you didn´t mind, leave me a little feedback!

@bold-brave-courageous @reeselivesforeverinmyheart @allthetrek

I ran back to my quarters, ripped off my clothes and swung myself into my uniform. I quickly tied my hair back and drank something before running to the infirmary with a sandwich in my hand. There was a hustle on the whole ship and pure chaos in the sick bay. "Zimmer over here!" I was not right through the door, as Boyd beckoned me to himself. "Doctor." I nodded to him. "What can I do?" "Pack the medicine packs." He pointed to a few suitcases. "We need vaccine hypos, make sure they're all loaded with the standard charge, and pack the extended cartridges."

I grabbed the PADD he handed me. A little surprised that I actually understood everything, I set about putting the equipment together.

We've been on Warp for a while, when Chris's voice rang through the ship's canal and sent a shiver down my spine. Not the right time, but I was happy about the little distraction.

"This is Captain Pike. As you know by now, our five-year mission has been postponed, the memo has been sent to each of you, and we will deal with it in due course. Now, however, a much more urgent task awaited us. The Exelor colony is not a Federation colony. We are on a humanitarian mission. The people there need our help, we should keep the diplomatic chaos to a minimum. I don´t want to disturb you further. Pike out. " I had paused, but now I turn back to my duties. The suitcases were ready, now I dedicated myself to the landing gear's personal equipment. The Enterprise was one of the fleet's fastest ships, we would reach our destination in a few hours.

"So far everything ready?" Boyd scurried past me, grabbed more hyposprays and came back. "Yes, Dr. Boyd. "I smiled at him, which he gratefully returned. "What awaits us there?" "The information was meager, but apparently the Andorian flu broke out and they run out of vaccines and medications and apparently lack of all vital good." I nodded slightly. "How is this possible?" "Not everything can be replicated." I already knew that. "An outbreak of this magnitude is quite rare." He suddenly stood in front of me, a hypospray in his hand.

"What are you doing?" "I assume you are not vaccinated against the Andorian flu?" "Um no." I looked at the spray. "I enjoyed the most popular vaccines of the 20th century and there were no Andorians. Not on Earth anyway. " "I thought to myself. These are the standard vaccinations for Starfleet officers in the field. " "There are at least three misinformation´s in that sentence." I sat down as Boyd knocked on the couch to our right. "Nitpicking." I grinned at him, he pulled out the syringe and pressed it to my neck.

"Familiarize yourself with the landing team guidelines and grab a gear bag." He briefly flipped the tricorder over my body. "And, even if I don´t like it very much, you need a phaser." "Hold on for a second! Are you trying to tell me that I go down on the planet?" "My dear Katharina." He had become accustomed to addressing me with my the German form of my name, nobody else did that, and he did so only when I was not as fast as he expected. "You don´t learn it just from watching." "True again." I slipped back onto my feet.

"You're fine, let alone a small surplus of endorphins." I squinted at him, but he kept it. "Try it anyway, to rest an hour." "I have enough to read." Then we parted and I went into the ready room of the infirmary and sat down with my required memos on the couch and began to read.

*******

Logbook Captain Christopher Pike The Enterprise is at warp on her way to Exelor III. The crew, unlike me, is rested, according to Dr. Boyd we are well prepared for everything and our mission is approved by the High Command and yet, somehow the thought that this will not be a simple relief mission somehow creeps into my mind. I cannot put it into words, it's a feeling that doesn´t let me go. Hopefully it's just the lack of sleep from the last few days.

Chris scanned once more the information about Exelor that his Yeoman had put together in no time. Connor was good, but not so good, the report was poor at best and bristling with gaps and unanswered questions. Which was not the fault of the young officer, the colony had renounced the Federation and since then the information exchange was virtually absent. A faint ringing announced a visitor and he invited him in. He was not surprised at all when Number One entered the ready room. "Sir, we'll get to the Exelor system in thirty minutes. No evidence of alien ships in orbit or other space phenomena. " "Thanks." Chris looked at her, put down the PADD on his desk and leaned back in his chair. He silently crossed his fingers and waited for her to continue speaking. "The infirmary is running at full speed and anyone who has not been vaccinated against Andorian flu has had a visit from Dr. Boyd or one of his co-workers. " Pike had to grin at the thought of Phil chasing through the corridors with his suitcase.

"Are we ready to fight?" Una pulled an eyebrow dangerously far up. "We fight against viruses and one or the other food shortage." "I know." He swung out of his chair, walked around his desk and leaned against it. "Call it an uneasy feeling, a hunch. Something bothers me about this emergency call. " "I will arrange for everything to be checked again." "Thanks, Commander." He nodded to her. "I'll be right on the bridge. "Captain." She turned and left the ready room. Chris paused, thinking. The last time he had such a bad feeling was just before the landing on Rigel and at that time he was already in a bad mood anyway. Just now he actually felt good, to be honest fantastic, but nevertheless. He frowned at himself, then went to the couch in the corner, picked up the dark blue jacket of the new off world uniform and pulled it over. They were part of the equipment since the last upgrade. They were comfortable, virtually indestructible, and not quite as eye-catching as the colorful uniforms of the Constitution Class. Pike emptied his coffee cup, took a deep breath and entered the bridge. "Okay, let's take a closer look at Exelor III." He sat in his chair and turned to face the screen. "Lieutenant Amin go under warp, standard orbit. Lieutenant Nicola, hail all frequencies as soon as we're within range. "Pike pressed a button on his chair. "Dr. Boyd, I hope you are ready to go? " "Medical field teams ready and on their way to the transporter rooms." "Good, Commander Nhan will assign you security guards there." “Understood, Boyd End.”

The warp flicker vanished and the Enterprise jumped into normal space, passing through the system's outer plots before swerving into orbit over Exelor III, the only habitable planet.

"Sir, we receive response from the Government of planet." Nicola turned to Pike. "Governor Sforza awaits you in his official residence." "Good." Chris got up from his chair. "Spock, Dumar." He nodded to the two officers to accompany him, then turned to Una. "Number One, you have the con. Scan the planet, I want to know everything what we can find out, without getting to much attention on us." "Aye Sir." She came to him. "Still gripes?" "Let's say flatulence." He raised his eyebrows. "Open eyes." Then he left the bridge with his field team and entered the turbolift, which was to take them to the transporter rooms. The Enterprise was in good hands, now he had to make sure the landing party was as well.

******

Never in my life had I been so nervous as when I entered the transporter platform, took a deep breath, and waited along with the response team Captain Pike and Dr. Boyd had put together to beam down to the planet. We were just one of the three teams that go, the situation on the planet was tense. A number of political issues were added to the medical problems. Not our responsibility. Exelor had won his independence from the Federation years ago, and did everything to keep it that way, and yet the Enterprise was here and everyone down there affected by the epidemic was now placing they hopes in Starfleet. "Alright." Pike looked at the response team, then asked the Transporter Officer to connect him to the other rooms. "You all know what to do, what our job is. We will not interfere in the political situation. I will meet with Governor Sforza. Lieutenant Commander Dumar, Lieutenant Spock and Ensign Donovan, you will accompany me. "

Of those mentioned, only the Commander was with us in the transporter room, he nodded in confirmation. Chris pinched his lips, then turned back to everyone.

"I'll say this only once. No one walks down there alone, no one moves away from there group and no one goes anywhere without a security escort. Under no circumstances we will act outside our jurisdiction and do nothing beyond a humanitarian mission." His eyes emphasized his words, which in themselves didn´t tolerate any contradiction. With a nod he gave the word to Dr. Boyd. "Don´t forget that these people are going through the worst thing they can imagine. Their relatives suffer and die. We come to help, but you can be sure that some of them will blame us for their dilemma. "Boyd cleared his throat. "Report any irregularity, don´t engage in discussion, and don´t be afraid to ask for help." "Thanks Phil. Questions?" Nobody said anything, so Pike nodded, entered the platform with his senior medical officer and gave the order to beam. We landed in a deserted spot, right in front of the colony hospital. It was incredibly quiet and nobody was to be seen. I swallowed, even though we were standing outdoors on a plaza, I felt like I was entering a prison. Along with three others, I was assigned to the team that should look around the city. Dr. Boyd had suggested that probably not all settlers had made it to the hospital or a practice, and if I looked around here, he was probably right.

"Good." Pike moved away from us a few steps and then turned around. "Everyone knows what they has to do." His gaze wandered to the sky, then across the square. "Here we go. Be careful."

I joined the team of Dr. Mayans. Just as I was about to reach for my backpack, someone was holding it out to me.

"Captain?" I smiled at him. "Did I forget something?"

"No. Your first off world mission." He made me understand that I should turn around, I did, and he helped me put the backpack on. I put my hands on the straps and brushed his fingers briefly. "Please take care of yourself."

I gave him a quick look over my shoulder. "You too."

Then I watched him go to the hospital with Boyd's team and turn off with his people just before that.

"Okay, let's go." Samoa Mayas had the leadership of our team. "Let's take a look around."

Masterlist

#star trek discovery #star trek discovery fan fiction #star trek discovery oc #chris pike #chris pike x reader #christopher pike x reader #captain pike x reader #captain pike x oc #pike x oc #chris pike x oc #captain christopher pike #captain chris pike #writbelr #cathrin zimmer #chris pike fan fiction

10 notes · View notes

bonesmctightass · 6 years ago

Text

Stranded

It was getting colder as the sun dipped ever closer towards the horizon. This didn’t make a damn lick of sense in McCoy’s book, seeing as how it was supposed to be the dead of summer on this planet. It was sorta nice, he guessed. Kinda reminded him of winter vacations at the skii lodge his grandparents owned back in the day. There was a bunch of log cabins strewn about and they looked mighty inviting. But this wasn’t shore leave, and they had a schedule to keep. McCoy hiked his medbag higher onto his shoulder and regarded Spock with a jut of his chin.

“Y’alright? Holding up okay?” He asked, doing what he thought was an excellent job of keeping the worry out of his voice. They were following a representative of the planet to an impressive looking main structure that resembled a medieval castle of sorts. As such, he didn’t want to tip off their hosts that the alien to his left was probably rattling his bones by now, so he kept his voice hushed.

“I am adequate, Doctor. Please do not worry about my current state. We have important business to attend to which is much more pressing than my meager abilities to withstand the cold.” Spock replied stiffly.

“Don’t worry. Don’t worry my ass.” McCoy replied flippantly.

The important business he was referring to was actually the planet’s leader. They had been told he had contracted something on his last visit to the sister planet in the star system. McCoy had later found out, thanks to a rushed blood sample, that it was a mutated variation of the Auroral Plague. He’d had some… unfortunate interactions with the disease in the past. McCoy would not be making that mistake again. He gripped his tricorder and trudged through the snow to the warm haven awaiting them.

“Are you quite certain Mister Spock will be unharmed?” Their escort was wringing her hands nervously, having stopped outside the corridor leading to the main chamber. “If you must turn back to your ship we would understand.”

“There is no need,” Spock said calmly. “I am a Vulcan, and thus immune to the bacteria. For this reason I was the most qualified candidate to accompany Doctor McCoy.”

“I’ve also been vaccinated, as we previously discussed. No harm will come to us, ma’am. We’ll get the job done soon as we can. Please get yourself a safe distance and make sure that no one has access to the area for the duration.”

The woman nodded and quickly retreated, leaving the pair to their duties.

---------------------------------

“There. That ought to do it. He’ll be right as rain after a few days rest.” McCoy announced triumphantly. This encounter with the Auroral Plague was much more pleasant, all things considered. “Thanks for the help, Spock. You make an excellent scrub nurse.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Doctor. Although I should like to remain in my current position. Now if you are amenable, I would like to return to the ship as soon as possible. I believe I can endure approximately thirty seven more minutes before I begin to lose feeling in my hands.”

It didn’t take a genius to see that Spock was looking considerably more green than usual. The blood capillaries in his face had risen so close to the surface of his skin, McCoy could actually see the fine webbing of his veins. He frowned, not liking the look of that at all. “Let’s get you home to a warm bed, then, shall we?”

They gathered their medical gear and found their way to the entrance. As they were about to enter the grounds to the estate, the same woman from before made an appearance.

“A storm is coming.”

At this, McCoy bristled. He absolutely detested being unprepared. What he detested even more was the thought of harm coming to Spock due to the increasingly plummeting temperature. “What storm? There was no talk of a storm before we beamed down. Are you saying we can’t leave?”

The girl couldn’t have been older than twenty five. Earning McCoy’s ire had the poor thing looking like she’d be reduced to tears any second and he instantly felt bad. “I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t be safe for you to beam up now. I really am sorry. Please, I’ve made up a room for you to rest. You will be warm enough for the night and there is nourishment for you both. As soon as dawn comes, you will be able to leave.”

Rubbing his hands over his face, McCoy heaved a heavy sigh. “Alright. Guess we’ve got no choice. Come on, Spock. Let’s follow the lady and we’ll try to get Jim on the comm.”

It looked like Spock was having trouble getting his body to cooperate, which made McCoy even more nervous. “That would be agreeable.”

They set off down the hall and the many twisting corridors that followed.

“Please let me know if there is anything you need. We cannot thank you enough for your healing. Please, anything at all. I’ll be just down the hall.” The girl said as they stopped in front of their quarters for the night. She left as quick as she’d come, leaving the two mean to inspect their shelter.

“I’d better call Jim before things get too bad out there.” Apparently he’d spoken too soon. He tried to send a message to the bridge but the communicator couldn’t get a signal through the heavy snowfall. “Damn it. I guess we’ll just tough it out, then.” He signed and pushed the heavy door open.

The room actually wasn’t terrible. There was a good number of blankets. A nice fireplace, already roaring. Plush carpet spread along the wooden floors. Sort of reminiscent of a bad porno he once saw when he was a teenager. McCoy grimaced and shook his head, focusing his attention instead on the large four poster bed against the adjacent wall. He swallowed thickly, wearily eyeing their accommodations for the night.

“Well. Guess this planet has no qualms about bedsharing.” McCoy huffed. Spock remained ramrod straight on his spot just in front of the door, still in parade rest. He was getting increasingly worried about his friend’s health. “Hey, come on. Get into the bed before you freeze to death.”

“I’m afraid I am unable to move. It appears that the blood flow to my extremities has slowed considerably. My body is beginning to shut down.”

“Jesus, Spock.” Determined not to panic in the face of this new obstacle, McCoy set his jaw and thrust himself into the task of getting Spock into the bed. An incredibly challenging feat, seeing as how his bones were several times denser than his own. “God, you weigh a ton! No wonder you’re so goddamn strong. You lug this dead weight around all day, I don’t know how you can stand it!”

After several embarrassingly long minutes, McCoy was finally successful in getting Spock onto the mattress. He tucked the Vulcan in and piled as many blankets on top of his body as he possibly could.

“How’s that? Any better?”

“I will update you in a moment as I am still quite numb. My apologies for the inconvenience, Doctor.”

“Oh, shut up.” He got up and stoked the fire, making sure the temperature in the room climbed a few degrees higher. “I’m your friend. I’m not about to let you turn into an icicle. At least we’ve got a fire going. That should get your blood flowing again.”

“The feeling is slowly returning to my fingers. I will survive the ordeal, thanks to your aid. If you do not mind sharing the space with me, I suggest you prepare yourself for sleeping. Surely the Captain will be eager for our safe return.”

If you do not mind. As if. McCoy knelt to the floor to remove his boots. He wouldn’t mind. In fact, he would have preferred to coax Spock into his bed the old fashioned way. It took him far longer than it should have to untie the laces. He was delaying the inevitable. He knew he was going to get into that bed. He knew he was going to be mere inches away from Spock’s body. And he knew that he was not going to be able to resist touching it.

Their courtship was a long one. They had flirted here and there. Had a drink once. Met for dinner and spoke of times past. There was something there between them and they both knew it. An easiness. It was so easy for them to come together and speak casually about any number of things. So easy to debate and argue. And so fun. But it was also fragile. So very fragile. Any sudden movement and McCoy feared everything would fall apart. Even speaking about it had been off the table thus far. But there was something.

“Are you going to join me?” Spock asked quietly, startling McCoy out of his reverie.

“Yeah.”

The bed dipped with the added weight. McCoy slid under the blankets and settled stiffly onto his back. He had never been in a bed with Spock before. He had sat across from him in the mess. Even shared a space on the couch in his quarters, once. But most of their camaraderie was spent in the medbay in McCoy’s office. This was new uncharted territory.

“Is this fine?” He asked hesitantly. He could hear Spock inhale shallowly and felt something move against the sheets.

“Leonard,” Spock said seriously. “I am quite frigid. Perhaps you could come closer. If you would permit it, I would greatly benefit from your body heat.”

After waiting the two or three minutes it took to actually process what the hell Spock had just said out loud, McCoy scooted a bit closer. He sidled up against Spock’s side, a hair's breadth away from touching the length of his body with his own. He could feel the heat rolling off Spock in waves, his body desperately trying to return to its normal temperature. McCoy bit the inside of his cheek hard. Just a little closer. Just a bit. For Spock’s benefit.

Another few centimeters and they were touching. McCoy was trying to hold still, trying not to ruin it. Trying not to breathe.

“Is this still fine?”

This time Spock exhaled and he definitely felt the movement of those devastatingly elegant fingers.

“Yes.”

@strangledbythestars

#should there be a part 2????#spones #stranded #prompt #bedsharing #my fic

43 notes · View notes

mundieoriley · 6 years ago

Text

Boldly Go | Bones x Oc

Author's Note: Hey everyone! I hope everything's going well for you guys! This is a Star Trek AOS one shot I wrote a couple years ago; It takes place during Star Trek 2009. I hope you all enjoy it!

Thanks for stopping by

Mundie

Bones is so going to kill me.

Emalee curses under her breath as she struggles into a half sitting position, her back leaned against a piece of pillar connecting to the other platforms behind her. She avoids looking over the side of the thin walkway she currently sits on, keeping a sharp eye out for any more Romulans that may be lurking on the other catwalks scattered around the large room. Whose idea was it to design a ship to have a bunch of walkways criss crossing each other all over the place, with no railings either? It's just a disaster waiting to happen and Emalee sure as hell doesn't want to fall over the side like one of Nero's crew members did, courtesy of your's truly.

She winces as the wound in her stomach protests painfully at her movements, reminding her to apply more pressure to the bleeding stab wound, blood leaking stubbornly between her crimson stained fingers. Unfortunately for her and Jim, the two Starfleet officers had been intercepted by Nero, the captain of the Narada and kidnapper of Captain Pike, and one of his cronies. A short and bitter fight had ensued, a fight in which Nero easily beat the living hell out of Jim while Emalee was occupied with the other Romulan. Emalee had managed to unbalance the large crony and shove him over the edge of the catwalk they had been fighting on, but not before he got a few good hits in. So, it's safe to say Emalee had not been at the tip top of her game when she had pulled Nero off Jim. She had succeeded in buying Jim a bit of time to recover, but not before the Romulan captain had slammed her against the wall she currently rests against and stabbed her in the stomach. It had been, hands down, the most painful thing she has ever experienced.

Fortunately, in that moment, a robotic voice had come over the ship's intercom, informing Nero that Spock had destroyed the large drill that had been digging into Earth's surface, causing Nero to yank the blade out and let Emalee go and leap over to another catwalk and disappear. Emalee had slid down to the ground, biting her lip to keep herself from crying out in pain again. Jim had pulled himself from the floor and stumbled over to Emalee, dropping to his knees beside her.

"Well, that's just typical," she had said as Jim had placed his hands over hers on the wound, applying pressure.

She had sucked in her breath sharply as a bolt of pain had radiated out from the wound in protest to the added pressure.

Jim had shaken his head at her, his jaw noticeably tight. "Your luck is worse than mine, you know that?"

Emalee had let out a weak laugh at that. "Yeah, well, I didn't really think that one out. You owe me big time."

By way of response, Jim had wrapped one of her arms around his neck and tried to get her to her feet. "Come on, let's get out of here."

She had hissed between her teeth at the unexpected movement, frustrated that she had gotten herself hurt and turned into a burden.

"Jim, I'm only going to slow you down," she had said as she leaned heavily on her best friend. "You're going to have to leave me here."

"No way," he had said with a shake of his head as he had tried to gently guide his friend forward, but she had stubbornly dug in her heels, forcing him to stop. "There's no way in hell I can just leave you here."

"You'll never make it to Captain Pike in time if you don't," Emalee had said as she, doing her best to ignore the throbbing wound, pulled herself away from Jim and leaned heavily against a nearby wall.

"Emalee-,"

"Go," she had interrupted. "I'll be fine."

He had stood there, clearly conflicted and they had stared each other down for a few moments, both stubborn and unwavering.

Finally, Jim had let out a long and defeated sigh. "I swear, when we get back, I'm going to kill you."

Emalee had smiled weakly. "Not if Bones gets to me first.... Now go."

With one last look, Jim had turned and hurried away, leaving Emalee alone.

Now, frustrated and hurting all over, Emalee has been reduced to mumbling curses under her breath.

"Stupid, freaking, Romulan," she grumbles.

Note to self: Kick Nero's sorry Romulan ass.

You're just angry because you might not make it back to Bones.

Emalee squeezes her eyes shut, shutting down that train of thought and blocking the emotions that come along with it.

"Channel your inner Spock," she mumbles to herself as she opens her eyes again, taking as deep and calming breaths as her wound will allow her.

She prays Jim gets to Pike on time, prays that Spock is still in one piece, prays that everything will work out, that, if she has to, she'll be the only one that has to die.

The bleeding doesn't appear to be slowing down, seeing how warm blood still leaks freely between her fingers, staining everything it comes in contact with. And if the shakiness in her hands and the heaviness in her body is any indication, Emalee is losing too much blood too quickly. It looks like no amount of pressure she applies to the wound with her hands will do much good, but there's no way she's going to go down without a fight. She promised Bones she would make it back to the Enterprise alive and she'll be damned if she doesn't uphold that promise. She has to tell him how she feels about him before she can die anyway; Emalee already regrets putting it off for so long as it is and there's no way she's going to die with regrets.

She has to tell him she loves him before it's too late.

When it feels like years have gone by, but in reality only ten minutes have, golden light suddenly appears, swirling around her, encompassing her entire battered body. A huge grin flits across Emalee's pale face as the familiar feeling of beaming washes over her, along with relief. If she's being beamed, that means the mission was successful.

A moment later, Emalee finds herself sitting on the transporter pad, biting back a cry of pain as the beaming jars her sharply. She blinks several times to clear away the dizziness that always accompanies beaming and immediately begins to struggle to her feet, as she quickly does a sweep of the room. Emalee uses the wall for support (unknowingly smearing blood across its once pristine white surface) and ignoring the shakiness of her knees and the pain she feels throughout her entire body as she takes in the sight of Jim and Spock propping a half conscious, but alive, Captain Pike between the two of them. Scotty and a few other personnel are on their feet, rushing to help Spock and Jim with Captain Pike. Finally, she spots Bones, hovering around Jim and Spock, brandishing his infamous tricorder. The familiar sight of Doctor McCoy buzzing busily around a patient, despite the situation, causes Emalee to smile. But something isn't right with the doctor. He seems incredibly distracted and, from what little she can see of him around all the people in the room, he appears to be looking for something that the Enterprise personal keep obstructing his view of.

Emalee expects the group of people swarming around the injured captain to bustle out of the room and, not that she minds at all (in fact, she encourages it), leave Emalee behind to make her own way to Medbay, but Jim and Spock draw the Captain away and all the worried crew members out of the room with them. Doctor McCoy lets everyone else through first, his dark eyes searching the small crowd, again, looking for something.

Suddenly, Emalee's vision becomes unfocused as relief washes over her when she realizes everyone is safe and alive. The room becomes nothing more than unrecognizable blobs of color, her hearing hollowing out and becoming indistinct. She becomes hyper aware of the warmth of her blood staining her hand that remains pressed over the wound, the feeling of the cold wall slick with blood beneath the hand she has leaned against it for support, the feeling of her knees practically knocking together from the strain of keeping her upright, and the overwhelming urge to lay down, close her eyes, and go to sleep. Just as that thought crosses her blurry mind, her legs finally give out as her sense of balance goes sideways, making Emalee sink slowly to her knees and droop forward, like a wilting flower.

She blinks several times in an attempt to clear her blurry mind and vision, wobbling dangerously as she suddenly finds herself desperately wanting, needing, to call out to Bones, to get his attention.

Emalee! Snap out of it! Her internal voice screams at her.

She blearily lifts her incredibly heavy head, desperately looking for the only reason she's been able to hold on this long. Her eyes, which are going from focused to unfocused without her consent, latch onto Bones, who is still looking out the doorway, back to her, nothing more than a blob of blue and black.

He's looking for you, murmurs her subconscious.

As her precarious grip on reality slips between her fingers, Emalee tries to call out to him, to stand back to her feet, but, due to her discombobulated state, she only causes herself to lose her balance entirely and fall onto her injured side with a thud. The pain barely registers as everything takes on a surreal air. She watches her blood leak from the wound and form an ever growing crimson pool with morbid fascination.

Emalee wonders if this is what dying feels like, as a voice, garbled and muffled, calls for her attention.

If it is, then death's not so bad, she tells herself as the voice becomes more urgent. She barely notices something buzzing and beeping in her ears, her blurry eyes still latched onto the pool of blood forming next to her.

It'd be so easy to just close your eyes and slip away, the voice whispers to her as someone gently turns her onto her back. However, that barely sticks in her mind as her eyelids droop, thinking maybe the voice is right.

Sleep sounds nice.

Go on, close your eyes, says the voice, soothing and reassuring.

Yeah, I think I will, Emalee thinks sleepily as she lets her eyes slip shut.

Don't you dare close your eyes, another voice suddenly says, familiar and urgent. Stay with me, Emalee!

Hmm? But why? I'm so tired, she says to the demanding voice.

Ignoring the voice telling her to close her eyes, she slowly forces her eyelids apart, her vision as blurry and fuzzy as her mind. Things slowly start to bleed into focus and she becomes aware of the fact her body is quivering, even though she doesn't feel cold, the feeling of warm arms cradling her gently against a blue clad chest. She realizes someone is carrying her, the swaying motion only making her dizzier than she already is.

"Emalee, can you hear me?" The voice is urgent, worried, and achingly familiar.

Slowly, she pulls her gaze up to the owner of the voice, the sight of this familiar man with the hazel eyes, dark hair, and southern lilt to his words chasing away the blackness gathering in the corners of her vision.

"Sure can, sunshine," Emalee mumbles with a cheeky smile in response to the doctor's question, glad she can string together a sentence even though her breathing isn't exactly even.

"Of course you're joking at a time like this," he says, his voice tight and bitter. Bones picks up the pace, urgency and fear rising up in him full force. Emalee is exhibiting textbook symptoms of shock and, obviously, blood loss.

"Can you tell me how long you've been bleeding?" he asks her as the door to Medbay comes into sight at the end of the hall, forcing his voice to come out even. The last thing McCoy wants is to let his almost overwhelming anxiety and fear get the best of him and rub off on Emalee.

"Hmm... I dunno," Emalee responds, her words slurring together.

Just then, Bones bursts into the Medbay, immediately noting most of his staff are hard at work on Captain Pike in his few minute's absence. He notices a nurse buzzing anxiously around the room, clearly not sure what to do with herself. Bones calls out to her as he places Emalee on a nearby bed, slipping into Doctor Mode. The nurse turns and immediately rushes to his side.

"Yes, Doctor?"

Bones barely takes his eyes off Emalee as he scans her with his tricorder for the second time, noting the paleness of her skin and the bruises scattered like ugly purple, blue, and black flowers across her cheekbones and jaw. He pushes away the anger at the Romulans who did this to her and instead quickly puts together a mental list of things he's going to need. He rapidly orders the nurse to gather the needed supplies, the women immediately following his orders. Suddenly, a cool and clammy hand grasps his that had been leaned on the bed beside Emalee, immediately getting his attention.

"It's that bad, huh?" Her voice is tired and weak, eyes half lidded as she looks up at him, not missing the way his jaw is clenched.

The nurse suddenly appears with her arms full of medical supplies, giving Bones an excuse not to reply. The two quickly go to work on Emalee, who can barely keep her eyes open at this point, everything becoming distant and echoey. Only disconnected words and phrases like 'surgery', 'lost a lot of blood', and 'transfusion' register to Emalee's tired brain as she feels the prick of a needle. Her eyes slip closed and darkness overtakes her.

***

The first thing Emalee becomes aware of as she slowly reaches consciousness is the sound of hushed voices, the quiet pit pat of light feet across tile, and a soft and rhythmic beeping noise. Emelee listens to the quiet noise of activity around her, letting her drowsiness stick around for a little while longer, not wanting to rush into full wakefulness. But, she becomes more alert and with that alertness comes the pain. She feels like one giant, sore and throbbing bruise.

Two pairs of feet approach her and stop near her bedside, interrupting her thoughts.

"How's she doing?"

Emalee recognizes Jim's voice, which is lowered and a lot more solemn than it usually is.

"Stable," a second voice Emalee instantly knows belongs to Bones says, also lowered to just above a whisper. "Should be coming around soon."

There's a moment of silence that is only filled with the rhythmic beeping Emalee assumes is her heart monitor and the two men's almost inaudible breathing.

"How'd she get stabbed?"Although his voice is relatively even, Emalee knows the doctor well enough to detect the tightness present in his words.

Jim lets out a sigh and Emalee can imagine him looking at the floor and shaking his head.

After a moment, Kirk tells Bones about the fight between the two Starfleet officers and Nero and his crony.

"I tried to take her with me, but she wouldn't let me," Jim says. "She said she'd only slow me down and keep me from getting to Pike on time.... I didn't want to leave her there, Bones. I really didn't. But if I hadn't, Pike would be dead and Earth would have been destroyed and...."

There's a long, pregnant silence.

"I know you did the right thing, Jim," the doctor says. "But-."

Bones closes his mouth with an audible click and falls into silence.

"Well, I'd better get back to the Bridge," Jim says. "Comm me if Emalee wakes up."

And with that, Jim's footsteps fade away, clearly understanding Bones wants to be left alone for the time being. The doctor lets out a slow exhale as the sound of a chair softly being pulled up to Emalee's bedside and the doctor sitting down reaches her ears.

"We both know you're not asleep," Bones says.

Emalee resists the urge to wince and opens her eyes.

"Was it that obvious?" Emalee attempts to get into a sitting position, stubbornly ignoring her wound's protest.

"Damn it, Emalee!" Bones immediately stands to his feet and gently pushes her back into the mattress, his accent becoming more prominent. "Don't move 'round so much. You'll pop your stitches."

Emalee knows Bones' accent gets thicker when he's worried or worked up. The last thing she wants to do is make him worry more than he already does, so she grudgingly lays down again. The doctor flops back in his chair and runs a hand over his face with a sigh.

"You've got to be the craziest, most stubborn, and reckless woman I've ever met," he says, his hand still over his face.

"Look, I know I put you through hell," she tells him, ignoring the hoarseness in her voice. "But-,"

"Yeah, tell me somethin' I don't know," Bones interrupts as he straightens in his seat and bends an intense look on Emalee, mouth set in a firm line. "Emalee, you died and I had to bring you back two times. Two. Times. Do you have any idea-?"

Bones looks away from her and lets out a long sigh, running a lean hand over his face and keeping it there. She stares at him, wracking her mind for something, anything, to say, but, as the silence lengthens, nothing substantial comes to mind. Unable to think of anything else, Emalee slowly reaches out a hand and gently takes his, tugging it away from his face. It's slightly uncomfortable, leaning over like she is, but she can't bring herself to care as Bones slowly looks up at her, an expression on his face she can't quite read.

"Leo," she says, her nickname for him slipping out before she can stop it. "I-."

McCoy pulls his hand out of hers and stands to his feet, avoiding her eye. "Let one of the nurses know if you need anything."

And with that, he turns and walks away, out of Emalee's line of sight.

She crushes the hurt she feels as she looks after Bones, cursing herself for being so stupid. Of course he wouldn't want her to be so, well, affectionate, with him. Now she's gone and made him uncomfortable

So much for telling him your feelings.

"Shut up," she tells the voice under her breath as she forces her muscles to relax, leans back against the pillows and closes her eyes.

Quiet activity continues around the Medbay, giving Emalee something to distract herself with as she listens to the nurses talking amongst themselves and to other patients. She opens her eyes and perks up a little when she catches the tail end of a conversation about Captain Pike, who is on his way to recovery. Emalee smothers the feeling of guilt that rises in her chest when it occurs to her Bones must have been too busy saving her life to help save Pike's, whose life, in her opinion, is so much more important than hers. She's just some expendable communications officer while Pike is a captain (of the Enterprise no less!), one of the most important people on a star ship. It would not have been a blow to the starship if she had not made it off the Narada, but if Pike had died in Emalee's stead, it would have most definitely been a blow to the ship, the shockwaves of it even reaching back to Starfleet itself. Sure, there are First Officers to take over if a Captain can no longer serve, but a great Captain like Pike would have been a huge loss to the Federation.

Emalee is nothing in comparison.

As that thought crosses her mind, Jim's voice comes over the ship's intercom, informing the crew that they'll be reaching Earth shortly.

Emalee lets out a slow breath as she realizes she's going to be confined to bed in a hospital until doctors deem her well enough to move around. If there's one thing Emalee hates the most, it's being subjected to mandatory bed rest. She gets restless easily, a trait she shares with Jim, and having to stay still and do nothing for extended periods of time drives her up the wall.

The situation with Bones won't be helping either.

Tired of laying down, Emalee braces her arms on the bed and attempts to get herself into a sitting position, ignoring her stiff muscles' protests and the uncomfortable feeling of the movement pulling on her stitches. Just as she leans back against the pillows giving her back support in an upright position, a nurse bustles over, having noticed Emalee is awake.

"How are you feeling?" The nurse gives Emalee a skeptical look, like she thinks her patient shouldn't be sitting up.

"I'm feeling fine," she says, stubbornly refusing to admit her stomach actually hurts around the stitches and her whole body aches and throbs.

The nurse produces a tricorder and does a quick scan, seeming satisfied with the results.

"Your vitals are normal and it looks like the blood transfusion was a success," she says as she crosses her arms sternly, something she must have picked up from Bones considering he does the same thing. "But don't let me catch you out of that bed."

Emalee salutes the nurse, deciding not to ask about her alleged blood transfusion. "Yes ma'am."

With one last warning look, the nurse turns and moves over to another bed across the way from Emalee, who is kicking herself for landing herself in Medbay so much the nurses know she has the tendency to get out of bed when she probably shouldn't. Emalee reaches up and idly runs her fingers through her dirty blonde hair in an attempt to entertain herself as she curiously looks after the nurse, wondering who she's talking to. Guilt immediately rises in her chest again when she realizes Captain Pike is the one in the bed across from her, her gaze dropping reflexively to her hands folded tightly in her lap.

It's your fault the Captain didn't have all the help he needed.

Emalee internally tells the thought to shut up, even though a part of her still feels it's right. If she hadn't gotten herself hurt, heck, if she hadn't drawn Bones' attention to herself on the beaming pad, Pike would have had the best doctor on the Enterprise helping him.

But Emalee just had to be too weak, didn't she?

"I know bed rest is the worst, but why the long face?"

Emalee looks up from her hands, realizing the one talking to her is none other than Captain Pike. His kind face is tight around the eyes and pale, reflecting the pain and exhaustion from his ordeal he must be feeling.

Emalee forces down the rising guilt she feels the longer she looks at the captain and manages a small smile.

"It is, isn't it?"

Pike obviously notices she avoided the question, but, thankfully, he lets it go.

"I heard how you got yourself in here," the captain says.

Emalee doesn't respond.

"I also heard you made Kirk leave you behind."

Boy, this man is relentless.

Emalee shakes her head with a small chuckle and looks down at her hands again, still keeping her silence.

"That was a damn selfless thing to do," Pike continues.

"What else was I supposed to do," Emalee finally says with a nonchalant shrug, looking up at the Captain. "I couldn't prioritize myself over the lives of others."

Pike looks her over for several long moments, making her shift under his wise and knowing gaze.

"That selflessness and courage are valuable traits," the Captain says. "Traits all great Starfleet officers have possessed."

The corner of Emalee's mouth quirks up. "Are you implying I'm a great Starfleet officer, Captain?"

"No, but I think you have the potential to become one." Captain Pike's steady gaze does not waver. "Someone once told me there are no win scenarios and I can see you believe that too."

Emalee pushes a few stray curls away from her face and simply nods her head. Pike is right, she, like James T. Kirk, doesn't believe in no win scenarios.

There is always a way.

Just then, Jim's voice comes over the intercom, informing his crew that they have docked in San Francisco. As soon as Jim signs off, medical personnel seem to burst out of the very walls, hustling and bustling and getting the injured into wheelchairs and off the Enterprise, including Emalee and Pike. Emalee looks around for Bones in the sea of red and blue shirts swarming in and around the star ship, but she never manages to spot him. The nurse from earlier is the one that wheeled her all the way to Emalee's hospital room on the Academy's campus and, as she firmly but gently gets Emalee into the hospital bed and clothes, tells her a nurse will be by to check on her later. Then she bustles out of the room, leaving Emalee alone.

As she sits in the bed and stares at the bland white walls, her short conversation with Bones replays in her mind like a broken record, making her want to tear out her hair and scream in frustration. Her stitches itch and her whole body aches and she can't decide if she wants to shake McCoy until his teeth rattle or kiss him until her head spins.

She wonders, rather morbidly, what would happen if she gave in to the incessant impulse to scratch and not-so-accidentally tear her stitches. If, by some miracle, Bones ended up coming to fix her, what then? He'd only scold her and not let her get a word in edgewise. When McCoy's in one of his moods, you might as well be talking to a brick wall for all the progress you would make.

Emalee knows from experience.

The door to her room slides open with a swish, startling Emalee from out of her thoughts. She looks up from her hands and spots a blonde nurse dressed in the standard white hospital uniform enter her room and approach her bed, a cafeteria tray in her hands. The nurse hands Emalee the tray, checks her over, and hurries away without a word.

"Well, someone was in a hurry," Emalee says to the empty room.

And that's how it was for the next two weeks.

The same nurse would come in at meal times and bring Emalee food, check her stitches and vitals, occasionally ask a question pertaining to her patient's health, and hurry out of the room like Emalee has the Plague. Only seeing one person for a few minutes a day, the bland hospital room, and lack of anything at all to do except twiddle her thumbs is really starting to take its toll and Emalee misses her friends dearly. She misses Jim's jokes and laughter, the way he manages to find humor in almost every situation. She misses Nyota's scathing comebacks to Jim's teasing and having lunch together and testing each other's knowledge of xenolinguistics.

And most of all, she misses Leonard McCoy.

She misses his sarcasm, dry humor, and intelligence. She misses hearing him call Jim a corn-fed idiot and Spock a green blooded hobgoblin. She misses the easy conversations they would share over a meal and how he makes her feel like, in all his cynicism, she can tell him absolutely anything without judgement from him. She even misses her damn medical exams because they give her an excuse to see the grumpy doctor.

What she would give to see any one of them.

Unable to sit still for another second, Emalee throws off the thin blanket and slides out of bed, the tile cold against her bear feet. Ignoring her stiff body's protest, she begins to pace from the small window on one wall to the door opposite it and back again, just to be doing something other than thinking herself to death like she has been for the past two weeks. The soft pit pat rhythm her feet make as she paces back and forth numbs her whirling thoughts. She counts her steps as she paces, mumbling the numbers to herself under her breath as she goes.

She reaches the door and turns to make another pass of the room. "One..Two..Three..-"

"What are you doing?"

Emalee stops in her tracks, disbelief coursing through her, her eyes glued to the floor.

The door closes with a swish and she, still as a statue, hears the owner of the familiar voice march around her. A pair of pristine white shoes appear at the top of her vision and she slowly looks up, not sure what to expect.

There Leonard McCoy stands, his arms folded disapprovingly across his chest and the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown. Emalee can't help but notice the white uniform he wears brings out the green in his hazel eyes.

Dark eyebrows arch as he stares down at her, waiting for an answer.

Emalee clears her throat. "Pacing."

"Yeah, I can see that." Uncrossing his arms, he gestures at the bed behind her. "Sit down, would you?"

"I've been stuck in that God forsaken bed for two weeks," Emalee says, her pent up irritation and suppressed hurt and anger suddenly rising to the surface. "And not once during that time did anyone except a nurse think I might like to see them."

Bones opens his mouth to speak, but the dam has broken and everything Emalee has suppressed is rushing out in a torrent.

"I've been losing my Goddamn mind cooped up in here, wondering where the hell anyone is, wondering if you actually care about me."

"Emalee-"

She cuts him off again, too angry to notice that her voice is rising, that her fists are clenched tight at her sides, and that hot angry tears are running down her cheeks in bitter rivulets. "And obviously you don't because if you did, you wouldn't have disappeared when I needed you most!"

Her voice cracks pitifully at the end of the last shouted syllable and she bows her head, a sob rising in her chest and lodging in her throat. Her breaths leave her in great shuddering gasps and the tears cloud her vision, making it seem as if she is staring through a distorted filter. What little she can see of McCoy at the top of her vision blurs and shimmers as more tears spill down her cheeks and drip onto the floor. Her shoulders shake as she swallows thickly, only to have her throat close on another sob quickly replacing the first. Finally, she plucks up the courage to look Bones in the eye, letting him see her face and the tears falling freely and without restraint. She lets him see the pain and loneliness she's been feeling.

She lets him see how she really feels about him.

Bones sucks in a slow breath and releases it on a low exclamation. "God help me."

The doctor reaches out for Emalee, his right hand sliding into her dirty blonde curls at the back of her neck, tipping her head back a little. His other gently grips her waist, tugging her closer to him. Before she can even comprehend it, Leonard leans forward and kisses her, his lips warm and soft against hers. Emalee stands there frozen for a second before her brain catches up with her and she realizes exactly what is happening. Her eyes flutter shut as she returns the kiss, tasting the salt of her tears but unable to bring herself to care. She raises her arms and, wrapping them around the doctor's neck, presses herself closer to him until their bodies are flush together. Emalee hardly realizes what she's doing, so caught up in the feeling of being in the doctor's arms and kissing him like this. The kiss lasts for a moment longer before Bones pulls away a step and, cupping her face between his hands, looks Emalee straight in the eye.

"Don't you ever think for a second I don't care about you, Emalee," he says, causing emotion to rise in her chest and a few unshed tears slip down her already wet cheeks. Bones brushes away the tears with the pads of his thumbs in a gentle caress.

"B-but on the Enterprise- and the past two weeks...." Emalee knows she must look and sound pathetic, but the way Bones is looking at her, the way she never imagined he would, drives those thoughts away.

"I just- I haven't done this in years and the last time I did, well...." Leonard's eyes close, like he's suppressing bad memories, and he lets out a breath that warms Emalee's face for a moment and smells of peppermint. From what little Bones has told her about his divorce, there's nothing but painful memories there. His eyes open again and meet hers "I don't want to screw this up."

Emalee gives a small smile and runs her fingers gently through the hair at the back of Leonard's head. "You could never do anything that I wouldn't forgive because-." Emalee pauses, swallowing hard. It's now or never. "-because I love you, Leo. I've loved you for so long, I just never knew how to tell you."

Bones stares at her for a moment with something akin to disbelief in his eyes before a smile brightens his face. "God, I'm an idiot." He leans down and kisses her again for a moment before pulling away enough to see her. "I was afraid you'd never want to see my face again. I pushed you away and I'm sorry, Emalee. And, damn it, I love you too. I was just too much of a coward to tell you."

"You're the bravest man I've ever know," Emalee says as she leans up and hugs Leonard tightly. "Remember I said there's nothing you could do that I wouldn't forgive? That's never going to change, Leo."

Emalee's heart soars as Leonard holds her tighter. She loves him and he loves her and they can only boldly go forward from there.

#MundieORiley #Star Trek AOS #Star Trek 2009 #Bones x Oc #Leonard McCoy x Oc #Romulans #Fanfiction #Romance

20 notes · View notes

enterprisetrampstamp · 6 years ago

Note

Yep, I meant Bones/Spock/Uhura/Kirk! I was thinking the prompt “So I’m either in hell or the heaters been left on for too long.” could be fun, like if one of them was sick or something. 💚💚🖖🏻

Spongebob Title Card Narrator Voice: Three Months Later….

(AKA, I’m so sorry I took so long to answer this, rip)

When Len stepped into Jim’s quarters- unofficially, all of their quarters, because it was the biggest and had the most comfortable bed and was most central to the rest of the ship- the burning heat hit him like a brick.

“Who gave Spock control of the thermostat?” he demanded, shedding his science blues before the door had even finished closing behind him. The thermal undershirt wasn’t much better, of course, but Jim was a harlot who would fondle anyone in further stages of undress, and Nyota could never let herself be upstaged.

(They treated it like a fun little game, who could get Spock to look the most exasperated or who could get Len to yelp the loudest. Idiot children.)

(He kind of loved them.)

Spock looked over at him, one long leg tucked comfortably up beneath himself, the other knee hooked over the edge of the bed. His left hand rested on what appeared to be tangled burrito-like lump of blankets, and the small lines in the corners of his eyes expressed so much concern with so little movement. “I have not adjusted the temperature of the room,” he stated quietly, holding out his right hand with two fingers extended for Len’s greeting touch. “That was Nyota. I believe–”

The door swooshed open once more, and Jim made a strangled noise. “Either I’m in hell, or the heater’s been left on for too long,” he grunted, and smacked Len’s behind as he loped towards the bathroom.

“Dammit, Jim!” He snapped, taking a harsh step to follow–

And the lump on the bed grunted her displeasure at his loud voice. “Sick,” she said, muffled through layers of comforters. “Cold,” she added plaintively; all of her fancy, clever words seemed to be escaping her.

Hell, full sentences were escaping her.

Jim’s annoying existence forgotten, Len lowered himself gently to kneel on the floor next to the bed. He squeezed Spock’s knee, but his attention was fully on the eyes staring out at him from a tiny gap in the sheets. Nyota’s hair was sweat-stuck to her forehead, glistening in the dim lighting of Jim’s quarters, and Len’s heart gave a throb in his chest.

“Don’t need to bother asking if you’re okay, huh?” he asked softly, reaching out to brush that hair back. She keened, low in her throat, eyelids fluttering shut with exhaustion. “Honey, why didn’t you send me a comm? I’ll have to go back to the med bay to get your medicine.”

“Tired,” she murmured, as if that explained things. Maybe it did; they’d all been up and out before her that morning, since she was on a later shift. If she was so exhausted she couldn’t even move…

Other than to crank the thermostat, apparently.

Len snorted, his thumb brushing over her cheek. He could hear the hum of the water start up in the other room as Jim decompressed from a long, stressful day. “Have you eaten today?” he asked, getting only a vague noise in response as he pulled out his tricorder.

“What medicine does she need?” Spock’s hand was running gently over what was probably Nyota’s arm, somewhere beneath the goose down. “I shall comm Nurse Chapel and request its delivery.”

“No, no–” Len waved a hand, settling back on his heels as he turned his attention up at Spock’s dark eyes. His fingers found Spock’s bare ankle, deceptively dainty. “I can do that. Get her into the shower, will you? You know Jim won’t mind sharing–” or holding her up, he added silently, and Spock blinked his acknowledgement– “and I’ll get her some soup and you can get these sheets changed. She’ll feel like a whole new woman.”

“I find this an acceptable course of action.” Spock slipped out of Len’s grip- with a last, lingering brush of affection from one mind to the other- and oh so carefully gathered Nyota into his arms.

She mumbled something Len couldn’t understand through all the slurring; Spock, however- her nose tucked against his bare neck- downright radiated amusement. “It is acceptable to her as well,” he said dryly.

“Those ain’t the words she used,” Len guessed.

“No, they are not,” Spock agreed. He paused for a moment, those dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “She also insists you not turn down the thermostat, nor put your uniform shirt back on before she is awake enough to ogle you properly.”

“Her wish is my command,” Len drawled, rolling his eyes fondly.

“Nyota says ‘Damn straight, baby’,” Spock told him, as he disappeared into the bathroom with his precious cargo, and Len tipped his head back laughing.

Steam curled across the floor from the door he left cracked behind them, and Jim’s voice escaped, too, concern and amusement threading his tone in equal measure as Spock’s lower timbre returned with an explanation. Len needed to comm Christine and make his run to the mess, but first, he needed a peek of that bathroom–his three favorite people, crammed into one place.

(God, how he loved them.)

#mcspuhurk #leonard mccoy #spock #Nyota Uhura #jim kirk #(barely)#a tramp stamp original #I wrote this

6 notes · View notes

hailbop1701 · 3 years ago

Text

-What's Worse than the Flu?

October 18, 2021 (Work Until Collapse)

Word Count: 1,271

Sorry, this is so late guys! I was out doing stuff today (er...yesterday now I guess). No beta, typos yay. Uh Not long but not short either. This one is a bit lighter to give everyone a little breather. Much love, I'm gonna hit the hay and hopefully wake up on time tomorrow. I'll post again in a few hours!

-H

Masterlist

He was almost at the end of his rope. The ship had just gotten done with a short shore leave -- one he did not participate in, thank you very much -- and everything seemed fine, at first. Doctor Leonard McCoy looked through his microscope with agitation. Cursing the universe and its unknown pathogens under his breath, his gaze moved from the cells before him to a PADD his tired head nurse set beside him with a fresh cup of coffee. When she did that, he had no clue. What he did know was that he was going to buy her flowers or something equally as ridiculous when this was all over.

Leonard winced, he had been acting like a bear ever since the tenth crewmen came stumbling into Sickbay holding her head and stomach. The little virus plaguing them wasn’t a pretty one -- though no virus is pretty -- it made the poor sap who contracted it vomit their poor little guts out. Well, there was more to it than that, the symptoms were mostly easy to handle. It seemed to Leonard that it was very much like the Terran stomach flew, abate on steroids. It made you feel miserable and tired but once it ran its course you wouldn’t get that strain again. The problem was that it hit people hard, and fast, and apparently all at God damned once.

They were running low on supplies and the command crew was lying in his Sickbay. The thought of his friends being sick made his eye twitch. It also reminded him to call up to the bridge to see how Giotto was doing in the chair. The man hated it with a passion.

Reading the PADD, Leonard stood up from his stool and sighed when his back cracked back into place. Rolling his shoulders he quickly walked into the ward. Wrinkling his nose against the smell he checked in with each patient Jim and Spock being first. He was pleased to see that they were sleeping. Finally.

Sighing in relief, Leonard glanced at their vitals reassuring himself that they were doing better and moved on. Nyota and Gaila were in the next set of beds, they were quietly talking curled up on their sides. Upon Leonard’s approached they stopped and gave him a couple of weak smiles.

“Hey Lee,” Gaila greeted tiredly her green skin paler than it should be with flushed olive cheeks. McCoy gently patted her ankle returning the smile, his eyes slid to the monitors above their beds. He started muttering to himself, the action made both Uhura and Gaila look at each other and snicker. Brought out of his jumbled thoughts he looked at the two young women with a raised eyebrow,

“What?”

Nyota took his hand giving it a feeble squeeze, “Leonard when was the last time you slept?” she asked and even when sick with a severe stomach bug Nyota Uhura took no prisoners. Averting his eyes McCoy shifted on his feet. Clearing his throat he didn’t meet her eyes,

“I slept a couple of hours ago,” he grumbled wincing at the unimpressed silence that passed between the two women before him. He wasn’t exactly lying, he was simply omitting the fact that it was for about thirty minutes with his face pressed into his microscope. Gaila shifted on her bed so she was looking at him straight on with her arms crossed. Under their intense stares, Leonard was about to give when the typical happened.

“Doctor McCoy!”

Hearing the panicked voice of one of his nurses, Leonard darted off, Gaila and Uhura’s complaints falling on deaf ears. Rushing to the other side of the ward McCoy saw what the problem was. Christine was bent over an emesis basin, cheeks red and tears running down her face. Taking the medical tricorder that one of his nurses -- one of the two left standing--

handed over to him.

Scanning the miserable woman in front of him Leonard frowned shaking his head. “Sorry Chris but you get a nice comfy stay in the sick ward,” he muttered, the only response he got in return was a pained groan. He and his nurse helped Christine over to an available cot near Nyota and Gaila. Easing her down Leonard gave the quiet order to start an IV line with saline and a cocktail of drugs they had found that worked the best. Sighing McCoy let his eyes wander the room his gaze landing on each and every crewman, and officers that littered the bay.

Scotty was snoring, his mouth hanging open metal garbage can clutched tightly to his chest. Sulu and Chekov were glassy-eyed and mumbling back and forth to each other. From what Leonard gathered they were playing twenty questions. M’Benga was asleep, so was Keenser, and Janice. Sighing Leonard ran a tired hand through his already wrecked hair and all but collapsed into an empty chair. He sat in a special spot that allowed him to see into each bay and his friends. His hand went ungracefully from his hair down his face in the hopes to rub the sleep away. It didn’t work.

McCoy was sure how long he had been sitting there staring off into space but it was long enough for Jim to wake up and watch him with mild amusement and concern. “You uh okay there Bones?” the captain asked tilting his head to the side. McCoy had a sheen to his pale and flushed face. The dark circles under his eyes were far more pronounced than before and a green tinge was creeping up his neck. Jim could easily answer his own question but he’d rather hear it from his best friend.

“Damn shore leave,” Leonard grumbled swallowing thickly like he was trying to keep his stomach inside his body. Kirk winced sympathetically. Spock looking much better than he had the day before. Setting his water aside and placed his hands on his lap.

“Doctor, might I suggest you-”

Spock’s advice fell on deaf ears as Leonard lunged for a nearby basin his nurse had left -- woman deserves a commendation -- and retched. The coffee he had drunk left his body in a spectacular fashion. Jim winced and hissed and sent mental waves of moral support to his friend. “It’s okay Bones, better out man, better out.”

McCoy was not amused and told Kirk in the best way he knew how at the moment. Jim rolled his eyes at the rude hand gesture.

Ungracefully Leonard -- when he felt he was done dying -- fell back onto the floor with a pained groan. “Damnit,” he grimaced and unsteadily picked himself back up. Shuffling over to a closet he disappeared for a moment. Jim started out amused but now after waiting a good ten minutes was beginning to get worried. Shoving away his blanket the starship captain moved to get out of bed only to freeze when a tired sick voice shouted,

“Don’t even fucking think about it!”

Leonard walked out of the supply closest with a movable IV pole and a needle stuck in his arm just like everybody else. Jim watched for the next hour and a half as his friend moved around taking care of people while holding onto an IV pole for support. Jim was no longer surprised. He was also not surprised that Uhura and Gaila harangued the CMO to at least sit down for a while. Then high fived when Bones finally conked out. The remaining nurse who had been betazoid and already recovered from the virus replaced her boss’s fluids and gently laid a blanket over him breathed a sigh of relief.

Tags:

Everything: @lauraaan182, @chickadee-djarin, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234, @sayuri9908

Whumptober: @theatrevicki

#star trek aos #leonard mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #james t kirk #jim kirk #mister spock #nyota uhura #gaila #boneswhump #whumptober2021 #hailey the queen of typos

5 notes · View notes