#Star Trek AOS fanfiction

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

A Khan By Any Other Name

a prequel to Star Trek: Into Darkness

mystery, suspense, danger ~ romance & NSFW material to follow

summary: Seraphina DiPietro is wise in the ways of the world of world; she has to be, as she travels the California coast as a torch singer in pubs, bars, and nightclubs. She knows how to take care of herself and stay out of trouble--most of the time. When trouble comes, it's usually because she lets her kind heart overrule her common sense. Stopping to check on a handsome stranger stranded roadside in the Mojave Desert, her curiousity is piqued as much by his classic, mint-looking Mustang, as by its driver--a tall, dark, mysterious drink of water, whom she quickly learns is so much more than he appears.

characters: Khan Noonien Singh (aka: John Harrison), Seraphina DiPietro (OC)

word count: 2.4k

Chapter One

Her first mistake had been slowing down to have a second look.  Three plus years with a vintage car enthusiast (her ex now, thank god; three months gone and good riddance to him, her mantra whenever he crossed her mind) had ingrained the habit in her. The habit, frankly, plus an appreciative eye for the sweetest of rides.  Thanks to Simon (and his obsession), she could distinguish in seconds between the genuine article and that which easily fooled the masses, a cunningly detailed replica—and the sleek ragtop that looked to have skidded to the side of the road, leaving a spray a gravel and black, burnt rubber in its tracks, was absolutely the real thing.

So she’d slowed down, only half meaning to, cataloguing the fine details and quickly estimating its worth, while admiring its classic lines and the bright flash of its chrome detailings.  Seraphina couldn’t keep from grinning, thinking about how instantly covetous Simon would be in the face of such a find, and how jealous he would feel to know that she had stumbled upon it with no effort whatsoever.

The man bending over the open hood

straightened as she passed, arresting her attention with a commanding, steely gaze that left her feeling like a marked woman.  As though he not only saw her, in her every visible feature, but somehow inexplicably knew her—and needed her.  Vitally, and immediately. Despite the lick of common sense apprehension that fluttered through her vitals, simple curiosity and a deeply embedded tendency to act the good Samaritan had Seraphina making her second, even bigger, mistake of the afternoon--pulling over to park her hovercraft several feet in front of his stalled vehicle.

She looked into her rearview mirror; he had turned to watch how she would proceed, holding his hands up with his fingers splayed wide, surely his way of expressing she could approach him safely.  “Not so fast, buddy,” she murmured, “I wasn’t born yesterday…and I’ve seen your kind before.” Sera cut the engine, pulling the keys from the ignition and flicking the lock mechanism off the small can of mace dangling from her keyring.  She wasn’t so foolhardy as to face the tall, well-built stranger unprepared; nearly a decade of travels up and down the coast of California, performing in seedy, small town dives, then upscale pubs and bars, and finally city nightclubs, had taught her well to be ever on her guard.

And she’d learned a few tricks in the course of her career, for if the mace should fail; she could—and had—flipped a drunk onto his back a time or two, who’d tried to cop a feel when she passed across a darkened dancefloor; and she knew all too well how much force was necessary, knee to groin, in order to incapacitate those pigheaded brutes who wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer when they followed her out to the parking lot at the end of a gig. Handsome he might be (decidedly so, she mused, angular features, piercing eyes, thick, dark hair, an errant lock strayed upon his brow; such a striking combination!) but she was not fool enough to ever judge the book by it’s cover.

The stranger stood motionless a moment more, the light breeze ruffling that wayward lock until he brushed it back, a swift yet languid move that spoke of cat-like grace and an elegance that didn’t fit the setting or the way that he was clothed.  He was straight-backed, slim-hipped, long-legged--and poised with a confidence befitting a prince, and not the work-a-day posture of a blue-collar joe or road-weary drifter.  Yet the smile he gave her did not reach his eyes; Sera found it a little feral, and felt her pulse increase as a taste of adrenaline—that trusty “fight or flee” response—hit her system.

But she was already committed, having left the safety and cool comfort of her two-seater; if he was an actual threat, the worse that she could do was show the weakness of timidity now. Sera left her sunglasses in place, determined he would not read a bit of doubt in her eyes or bearing, the can of mace tucked neatly in the palm of her left hand, and walking forward into the dry, baking, Mojave Desert heat.

Sera gave a low but audible whistle, advancing as casually as she could, finally calling out to him, "She's a real beauty--and someone's taken serious loving care of her too." The 300-year-old Mustang appeared as close to mint as any vintage vehicle she had ever seen; given its obvious value, she had to wonder why the hell he would even have it on the road--especially in desert conditions. That instinctive voice of warning sounded an answer in her head: that's because it's not his.

Okay, Sera, she cautioned herself, give him the benefit of the doubt; he could have come by that automobile in any number of ways. She stopped a half-dozen steps from where the stranger stood, aiming to read his reaction as she asked, "Early 21st century, right?"

The man smiled--more sincerely this time--and nodded. "That she is," he replied, sparing a brief look at the stalled car, "Unfortunately, she's not going anywhere, anytime soon." His smooth, deep voice was as pleasant to the ears as his form was easy on his eyes, and his accent distinctly British, leaving Sera to ponder how and why he'd found his way into the midst of the Mojave. "I believe it's the transmission," he added.

In an instant, his eyes flicked downward, as though he registered that small, innocuous movement. She rushed to fill the vacuum of silence that hung between them, hoping to distract him from whatever suspicions her little move might have awakened.  “I know collectors,” she told him, running her right hand through her hair, fluffing it a bit, hoping to draw his eyes upwards again “…fanatical ones, who would pay a small fortune to make such a treasure theirs.”  She leaned toward him, adopting a confidential tone, honest in her curiosity, “However did you manage it?”

Sera could hear the tick of the internal combustion engine as it cooled, informing her he hadn't been stranded long. Surveying the area behind the Mustang, she spotted several telltale puddles of transmission fluid in the car's wake. "Looks like you might've blown a hose," she speculated, indicating the fluid spotting the back trail. "Those kind of parts are few and far between these days...but I bet we can find a mechanic who might be able to juryrig something enough to get you on the road again."

She turned back to find him watching her, his exotic-looking eyes narrowed. Appraising her in a way that made her feel...exposed. Unnerved. Vulnerable. Sera squeezed her hand against the reassuring weight of the small, defensive weapon cupped in her palm.

He inhaled sharply, a fleeting look of calculation crossing his face.  “It was an unexpected…” he paused, studying her carefully, “…but well-timed acquisition of…convenience.”  Such a reply was far too vague to answer her question—but didn’t surprise her in the least.

“Then you must be a man of remarkable luck, Mr…” Sera let her voice trail off with the question, fully expecting there would be little truth in his answer.

And then he was moving past the safe cushion of space between them, extending a large, powerful looking hand towards her, as way of introduction. “Harrison. I’m…John Harrison.” His grip was firm, not too tight, but Sera sensed—felt—a strength restrained that fit his bearing perfectly. Intimidating, but not frightening; confident—and intriguing her beyond her good sense should allow; and his eyes were locked on her, regarding her with such curiosity and healthy appraisal, that she slipped her sunglasses atop her head without a moment’s hesitation, meaning to meet his gaze directly.  

Sera hadn’t realized she was staring until he cleared his throat. “And you are?” he asked, smiling warmly, surely feeling the advantage now of having gotten past her bravado.  Her mouth felt dry—it had to be the arid atmosphere and not embarrassment over her awkward reaction to him--so that her tongue actually stuck a moment before she stammered out her name. “Seraphina.”  She said it rather breathlessly, then bit her lip against revealing her surname.

Harrison had not released her hand, although his grip was gentle, and the warmth of his skin pleasant against her own.  “Seraphina,” he repeated, the small smile creases bracketing his mouth deepening, and a hint of his true smile finally reaching his eyes.  “Lovely name, Seraphina. Exotic in its way, and as rare and fetching as a desert rose.”

Ordinarily, Sera would laugh off such obvious flattery; she’d had enough of it--and insincere at that--throughout her years as a torch singer.  This stranger—John Harrison—looked a better class of man than those who usually tried to ply her with compliments.  That was no reason, of course, to take him more seriously than any of the others.  And yet she felt a sort of…solemnity…about him; a dignity and self-assurance that spoke of a far more purposeful life than those of plain, ordinary men. He was damned attractive too, enough to have her a bit flummoxed at so dear a distance.  

"Seraphina,” he reiterated, teasing the syllables along, the depth and richness of his voice making her shiver a little despite the desert heat. “A derivative of seraphim, the highest order of celestial beings in religious myth.  Heavenly, fiery, winged immortals, tasked with surrounding and praising the throne of god.”  He leaned nearer, well past that unspoken barrier of personal space, closing his eyes while inhaling deeply through his nose, seeming to seek her essence by scent alone.

Such unexpected intimacy left Seraphina speechless, every instinct she had telling her to give ground a step or two—yet she remained still, for when he opened his eyes, she found herself fascinated by their changing hue. Seraphina had never seen such striking eyes on a man before; and she’d have sworn that they were blue.  Pale blue when she’d seen them from a distance, in the bright, unfiltered sun; then a surprising, piercing, azure when she met him face to face.  Now they seem to shift unpredictably from purely blue to nearly green with however the light played upon them, with flecks of gold speckling around the pupils.

“I wonder,” he mused, almost to himself, while Sera remained entranced and silent, unable to look away despite knowing she must look utterly foolish, “Might you be the angel of mercy I’m in such desperate need of?”

Befuddled, Sera sputtered back, "I...um...what?", finally taking a step back and pulling her hand from his grasp.

"I mean to say how fortunate I am, you came along precisely as you did. " Harrison shrugged and took a step back as well, his manner self-effacing enough to lend sincerity to his words. "And that your nature is a kind one--I imagine most women would have cruised by without a care for my predicament, given this isolated location and the potential threat I could embody."

Regaining her composure, Sera lifted her chin proudly, "I've managed to look after myself for many years now, and in dodgier situations." Her usual insoucience restored, she asked the most vital of questions, looking him squarely in the eyes to read the truth before he even answered, "Do I have reason to fear for my safety, Mr. Harrison?"

His eyes widened and he grinned, and then he began to laugh. Heartfelt, and deep in his throat; the rich sound of melted, dark chocolate--the rare sort of sweet that was supposed to be healthy for one, but only if consumed in moderation. A woman could lose herself in such a laugh, she realized, and I'll bet he knows it too.

"If there was any reason at all, you've quite disarmed me already." Now it seemed he was sizing her up beyond first impressions--and liking what he saw, by the look of satisfaction on his face. "I promise you, Ms..."

"It's just Seraphina for now please, if it's all the same to you. " Sera pressed her lips thin against the smile that wanted to break forth, enjoying both his unspoken surprise at her overall boldness--and what she dared to believe was an appreciation for her physical charms.

Harrison acquiesced with a tilt of his head. "Then I promise you, pretty Seraphina, that I harbor no ill intent towards you. And I would be deeply indebted to you for the aid I am sure you intend to offer me."

She felt her cheeks flush at his easy compliment--not taken in, but happy to accept it nonetheless. "Well, it's a shame to have to abandon her here, but the closest hope you have for a spare part--and a mechanic with working knowledge of antique cars--is at least a hundred miles away."

"Alright then," he affirmed, moving past her to slam shut the Mustang's hood, "We should probably be on our way."

"Of course." Sera turned to follow him, wanting a closer look at the rare vehicle before they drove away. "You should put the top up too; you may not make it back here until tomorrow at least."

He nodded again, striding to the driver's side door to start the car and raise the top. Something not quite right here, she thought, frowning; I could swear that this model and the ones that followed, had a remote on the key fob to control the mechanism. It reminded her that she'd initially thought the car did not belong to him--and that somehow she had allowed his charm cause her to lower her guard.

She stepped to the passenger side, hoping for a peek inside to confirm her growing suspicion. "You ought to raise the windows, too," she told him, leaning close enough to peer inside the passenger side window, "No telling what might find its way inside here once darkness falls. It gets pretty cold here at night..." Sera swallowed hard when she got a look at the ignition cylinder; it had been removed from its place beneath the steering wheel and hung down by several wires. The wires themselves appeared to have been rearranged.

Her heart in her throat, Seraphina searched her memory for the word to describe exactly what she was seeing. Hotwired. That's what they called it; a quick and easy way to boost a car. Simon had educated her, marveling at the skill of those he'd read about who could do do in under a minute. She'd never dreamed of seeing something like it up close. Yet there it was, and the man who'd done it clearly hadn't wanted her to see it. Which meant...

He was faster than her by far; almost preternaturally fast. Harrison had grabbed her left arm ( --- damn, he had noted she was carrying something there! --- ) through the window opening, his iron grip digging into her flesh painfully. "Drop it," he ordered her, "Drop it now. I can explain everything if you just remain calm, Seraphina."

She didn't mean to, but she whimpered softly, not only at the discomfort he was inflicting, but also for the cold menace in his eyes. Had she thought them beautiful, compelling, alluring, just moments ago? Now it seemed to her they were the deadliest eyes she had seen in her life.

(to be continued)

[wanderingjedihistorian]

Chapters: 11/11 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: James T. Kirk, Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Spock (Star Trek), Nyota Uhura, Crew of the Starship Enterprise, Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody, Ghost Company Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), 212th Attack Battalion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars) Additional Tags: Space Anomalies, Inter-universe travel, Banter, Mission Fic, Finding a way home, Jim is a Little Shit, Leonard McCoy is so done, obi-wan kenobi is a nerd, Cody despairs of it sometimes but he loves his idiot Jedi anyway, A great time is had by all, Leonard McCoy is good at what he does and that's a problem for a Sith Lord in another universe, tags will be added as this is updated, IFDChallenge2023, International Fanworks Day 2023, Both crews have been through some things, Bones finds the chips and does not like the math, Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about this, Stubborn CC-2224 | Cody, Frank discussion of the less than stellar parts of the Republics policies Series: Part 1 of Live Long and May The Force Be With You

Chapter summary: The Negotiator is back and now they all need to act on what they learned. 

Final chapter!

[orangesunsets12]

December Winter Fic #1 - Star Trek AOS

Ice Skates and Hockey Sticks

AO3 Link

Star Trek: Alternate Original Series, can be read as Original Series

Rated Teen and Up for injury.

Featuring Jim & Bones friendship, and Grumpy Bones.

Minor injury. An attempt at winter fluff.

Jim Kirk takes the crew of the Enterprise on shore leave, where they go ice skating. Leonard McCoy is against the idea, is very verbal about that fact, but doesn't really have a choice in the matter when Jim is involved.

As it turns out, the experience is more than what he bargained for, in both the good and the bad. Leonard isn't all that surprised by the bad.

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

“I have to say, Jim, I really don’t see a point in this.”

“Oh come on, Bones!” Jim said, sliding on his ice skate effortlessly. “It’ll be fun!”

“Fun is not the term I would use for ice skating, of all things. In this weather, no less.” Leonard mumbled, sitting on the cold bench, shivering. His own ice skates sat uselessly beside him, getting covered in the snow that fell from the sky. 

When he imagined shore leave, he didn’t imagine this. Sure, it was the beginning of December, so snow was expected in most places on Terra. But couldn’t Jim have picked a place in the Bahamas? Why did they have to come to this harsh remake of the Ice Ages?

The gray skies above them was nothing like the vacation he was dreaming about, if anything it made him want to go back to the Enterprise and finish the paperwork that was piling up. Scotty was lucky, he had managed to get out of this adventure because of engineering work. Or, perhaps Jim sympathized with him more because the engineer was stranded on an ice planet for years, and Leonard didn’t have an excuse as good at that, despite the work needed in medical.

He grumbled under his breath at the reminder of his job, then thinking about all of the illnesses they could get from the cold, the hypothermia risk, the chance of getting frostbite due the cold wind. It was dangerous out here, not darkness and silence, but cold and unforgiving. 

“Bones, really?” Jim said with a laugh, shaking his head as he stood up. “Even Spock is skating, and he hates the cold!”

“I do not hate the cold, Captain.” Spock said, skating over to them easily. Uhura, who was basically attached to his side the whole time, was now talking in the middle of the ice with Chekov. The kid seemed to be in his element, he wasn’t even wearing a hat. “My psychology merely is not accustomed to such cold temperatures.”

“See? He should be back on the Enterprise. I can check him for sicknesses he’ll no doubt get from this blistering cold.” Leonard grumbled, but Jim patted him on the back. 

“Skates on, McCoy. Do you really want to be sitting out here when the rest of us are out there living our best lives?”

“I don’t really fancy falling through the ice and leaving you to live your dangerous life alone.”

Nonetheless, Leonard found himself pulling on the ice skates, hating how cold his feet felt when he had to take them out of his boots, but thankful that he had the sense to wear thicker socks. Jim watched him, nearly jumping up and down, beaming at Leonard giving in, no doubt, while Spock stood still on the ice, eyeing them both with an eyebrow raised. His ears weren't fully covered by his cotton hat, and Leonard sighed. 

“Spock. Your hat. I don’t want to see you in sickbay later for frost-bitten ears.”

Spock nodded, pulling the hat further down on his head. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Go join Uhura, Spock.” Jim said with an easy smile. “I’ll get Bones on the ice.”

Spock nodded, and Leonard finally finished tying up his skates, much to his regret. Putting his gloves back on his hands, rubbing warmth back into his cold fingers, because he was not willing to sacrifice the use of his steady hands for something like this. 

Taking Jim’s hand, he pulled himself up, and he took the three shaky steps to the ice, holding onto Jim with a death grip. Jim thankfully didn’t say anything, but slowly eased him onto the ice. 

“Have you ever skated before?” Jim asked, quietly, keeping the conversation between them, and for that Leonard was grateful.

“When I was a kid. Not once since.” He admitted, and Jim nodded.

“Alright, it’s easy. Just take it slow.”

He huffed. “You didn’t seem to have that idea two seconds ago.”

“Well, now that you’re on the ice, I’m not letting you get off.”

McCoy sighed, muttering under his breath at how Jim was being unfair. He would’ve complained more, but he could feel the ice under his skates, slippery and threatening to make him fall, no doubt breaking a bone or two, so he had to focus on the task at hand. He hated how much he was shaking. 

“Bones…”

“I’m fine!” 

Jim grinned, yet it didn’t reach his eyes. “Alright, then let go of my arm.”

He glanced at his snake-like grip on Jim’s arms, and let go with a snarl. He wobbled, and he immediately splayed his arms out, hoping to catch himself. Thankfully, it seemed to work, if only temporarily. He couldn’t see himself going an inch forward like this. 

Why people enjoyed an activity like this was beyond him. 

“One second, stay right there.” Jim said, skating away at a breathtaking pace, flawlessly gliding against the ice, and Leonard mumbled under his breath.

“Not like I have an option.”

Nonetheless, McCoy took a hesitant step forward, wobbling awkwardly as he tried to gain his balance. Finally managing to look up from his feet, he could see Spock and Uhura now gliding along the ice, alone, while Sulu and Chekov eagerly took to playing a game of tag. Hikaru was awkwardly chasing Pavel, but the kid was too fast for him to reach him, coasting easily ahead of him. Every part of Leonard’s body screamed that this was dangerous, that someone was going to end up in Medbay if he didn’t do something about it, but another part of him enjoyed seeing them having fun, even if the fun wasn’t something that he could participate in himself. 

Jim was back in seconds, holding a hockey stick, and McCoy eyed him with distaste.

“What is that?”

“A hockey stick? You know, from an old Terra game!”

“I know what a hockey stick is, and I know what hockey is! You’re beginning to sound like Spock.”

Jim handed it to him, and he took it, resting the end of it on the ice and leaning his body weight against it, hoping that he wouldn’t break it. 

“Okay, so lean against it.”

“I am, Jim! And I’m fine.”

Jim eyed him knowingly. McCoy hated it, hated how much this kid actually knew him. 

He straightened his posture, letting the hockey stick hold him up, and slide one ice skate forward, trying to get used to the feel of the ice. He took a deep breath, and slid the next forward, hoping that the shaking in his legs would go away.

“There you go!” Jim encouraged, as if he was a puppy, and Leonard shot him a look. “Now, just a bit faster.”

“Give me some breathing room, will ya?”

Jim easily backed away, an easy smile on his face, and focused on Chekov, who had skated up to him easily, tapping his shoulder before skating away once more. 

“Captain! You’re it!” He shouted, his heavy accent laced with childhood excitement, and Jim brightened even more, giving Leonard one last look, as if waiting for permission to leave him alone. 

“I’ll live.” He said gruffly, “Barely.”

“Keep practicing, alright? I’ll keep an eye on you.”

With those words said, Jim joined in on their game of tag, and Leonard tried to keep his balance while watching them, amused. He tried to skate forward again, going slowly, skirting the edge of the iced over pond, knowing that he could fall into the snow and do less harm than if he fell on the ice. The wind was bitter, nipping his skin, and he wished that he had brought a scarf. But, it was too late now. He began moving his feet more frequently, trying to gain confidence, and the wind got stronger against him; he knew that he was going faster, still a snail's pace, but a huge improvement to before. He wasn’t gliding yet, just sliding slowly, but it made this dreary experience more enjoyable. Something sparked in his chest, something close to joy, but he didn’t dwell in it. He had to focus on the task at hand, despite how fun this was actually turning out to be. 

He wished that he could keep his eyes up and focused on what was around him, yet he lost his rhythm when he stopped looking at his feet. So, he stayed clear of the game going on in the middle, not wanting to cause a collision from his lack of attention.

It turns out his intervention wasn’t even necessary for a collision course to happen. He was so focused on his feet that he didn’t see it happen, but he heard the shout and the thump of bodies hitting the ground.

His head shot up to see Jim and Chekov splayed out on the ice, Jim clutching his nose while Chekov held onto his own head. Spock gracefully glided to their side, kneeling beside Jim as Uhura sat beside Pavel, while Sulu quickly got up from where he had apparently fallen. Leonard bolted over to them, dropping the hockey stick, completely forgetting about the ice skates on his feet, and slipped, careening to the ice with a crash. He felt the impact in his knees and thighs, but that didn’t stop him from getting to his patients. Crawling across the ice, he managed to reach Jim first, whose hand was covered in blood where it held his nose. 

“What happened?” He demanded, whipping out a medical tricorder from his pocket and hovering it over Jim’s head, expertly dodging Jim’s free hand trying to push him away. 

“From my observations, the captain was trying to avoid Ensign Chekov’s attempt to ‘tag’ him by sliding to a stop and spinning to the left. Lieutenant Sulu got in his way, and tripped on the captain’s leg, while Ensign Chekov predicted the captain's move, and the two slammed right into each other.”

“Sounds about right. You got a broken nose, Jim.”

Jim sighed, showing Leonard his blood covered hand. “I couldn’t guess.”

“You’re lucky,” He continued, falling into business mode and pulling out a few tissues from his other pocket, handing it to Jim, “No concussions, thankfully. No dizziness, nausea, any pain in your head?”

“Nope, just my nose. Look, I’m fine, Bones.”

“You’ll be fine after I set your nose and use the bone-setter for a few minutes, but certainly not now.”

Jim threw him a sarcastic thanks, but the look that his captain sent him told Leonard that he was indeed grateful.

Leonard, knowing that there was nothing he could do for Jim now, scooted awkwardly over to Chekov, who was talking to Uhura, his hands moving animatedly. From the way his hands slammed together, McCoy had no doubt that he was explaining what happened to them, yet he sounded excited about it, unlike Spock.

“He’s fully aware? No slurring?” He asked Nyota, waving the tricorder near Chekov, and she nodded. 

“Everything appears normal. No pupil dilation or dizziness, either.”

“Pavel? Any nausea?”

“No, Doctor. I feel quite well, actually!”

“Of course you do, can anyone bring your mood down, kid?” Pavel opened his mouth to reply, but Leonard held up his free hand. “You don’t need to answer that. You don’t have a concussion either, thankfully, but you’re going to have one big headache in the morning. Hikaru, are you okay?”

“Fine, sir.”

“We are sorry, Doctor.” Pavel said, sombering up real fast, looking at Leonard with those puppy eyes he had, “We did not mean to get hurt.”

He sighed. “I know. I just hate when you guys do.”

“See, what did I tell you?” Jim said, pointing to McCoy. “Bones is just a good ol’ softy!”

“Oh, youー”

He tried to get up, but his feet slipped out from under him once again, and he crashed to the ice, dropping the tricorder in the process. Sulu glided over to him, picked up the tricorder, and lifted Leonard up by his arms with ease, despite Leonard being taller than him. 

Uhura was by his side with the hockey stick soon after, and Leonard took it with a sigh. 

“Can this day be over already?”

Jim got to his feet easily, still holding his nose, and nodded. “Yeah, I’d be fine with that. Let’s get back to the Enterprise and get some hot chocolate or something.”

Hikaru shrugged, not disagreeing with the proposal, and for that Leonard was grateful. He helped McCoy to the edge of the ice, where Leonard stepped back onto the snow, sighing with relief. He kept a steady eye on Jim and Pavel, both of whom seemed okay, and got his skates off as quickly as he could, thankful to be back in his steady, flat boots. After everyone was able to take off their skates, Leonard gently grabbed Jim before the transporter beamed them aboard, knowing that Jim would run from him and treatment as soon as they rematerialized. 

He closed his eyes, and opened them on the Enterprise, quickly leading Jim and Pavel to the Medbay, ignoring the soreness in his knees. Pavel began talking about the adventures he had ice skating in Russia, and Jim listened intently as they walked, up until the doors to Medbay opened and Nurse Chapel took Pavel to a medical bed. 

“So, is there where you tell me ‘I told you so?’” Jim asked, and Leonard shook his head. 

“Nah. Something already tells me you know that.”

“But, I did tell you so.”

“What?”

Jim grinned, his nose still sluggishly bleeding out. It was a sight that would be unnerving, if not for how often Jim smiled when he was hurt. Now it was just a regular look on him, one that Leonard hated.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you, Bones?”

McCoy scowled. “No.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t.”

“You have a horrible poker face.”

“Are you out of your corn-fed mind? I do not! I have an amazing poker face!”

Leonard, like before, knew that Jim could see through him like glass. He hated to admit to himself that he liked skating, if only a little bit and only when he got used to it. It was fun, he could see it as something he did when the occasion arose, if only after a bit more practice. He would have to implement more rules, too, like no playing tag. 

But, he would never admit to liking the event to anyone else, even Jim, who would never let him live it down. So he could continue to deny it, no matter what, even if Jim already knew it. Leonard learned soon after meeting Jim Kirk, that was just how they were, and there was no use fighting it. 

[pummedraws]

I know that fics aren't shared much on here, but I wanted to post about it anyways: I started to write drabbles for my new (very old) rarepair obsession... okay, it's one (1) drabble So far. But maybe I'll write more, we'll see. And I plan to post them in one fic, each drabble separated by chapters.

So in case you are interested, here are the tags:

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: M/M Fandom: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Relationship: Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Khan Noonien Singh Characters: Khan Noonien Singh | John Harrison, Leonard "Bones" McCoy Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alien AU, Yes Khan is an Alien rather than an Augment in all of these drabbles unless otherwise specified, But it doesn't change much about him, It will just affect some of his abilities / skills / things he can do, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Not really explicit (yet), Bones calls Khan stupid names, They're happy and all of that, Could be so sweet that it's almost too much I'm sorry, Snarky Remarks, Attempt at Humor Language: English

[dinlukeandothers]

The best fanfictions i ever read! slow burn by arahir - hob gadling / dream of the endles [ the sandman ]

who wants to live forever? by ranchdiip - hob gadling / dream of the endles [ the sandman ]

just lovers (like we were supposed to be) by bizarrestars - james potter / regulus black [harry potter]

how (not) to meet your son's boyfriend by fifteenminutesoffame - din djarin / luke skywalker [star wars]

unintended consequence by itsmylifekay - roronoa zoro / sanji vinsmoke [one piece]

the rorona fruit by stark_black - roronoa zoro / sanji vinsmoke [one piece]

who did what now? by dancing_homestuck - roronoa zoro / sanji vinsmoke [one piece]

k'diwa: a steamy novel of interspecies romance, by jim kirk by branwyn - james t. kirk / spock [star trek]

part timer by 8ball - roronoa zoro / sanji vinsmoke [one pice]

wrong number by dangit - roronoa zoro / sanji vinsmoke [one piece]

the curse of 100 kisses by fanfictionaddiction23 - roronoa zoro / sanji vinsmoke [one pice]

where there's a will there's a way by xiaq - din djarin / luke skywalker [star wars]

naberrie blooms by zombified419 - din djarin / luke skywalker [star wars]

where hope is persevering by shyowl - din djarin / luke skywalker [star wars]

a sequence that you never learned by annataylor - james t. kirk / spock [star trek]

what the star let in by shyowl - din djarin / luke skywalker [star wars]

facade by hazel_athena - roronoa zoro / sanji vinsmoke [one piece]

what matters by junimokarter - jayce / viktor [arcane]

vitya by applesharon - jayce / viktor [arcane]

mother tongue by nightlilly - jayce / viktor [arcane]

retrograde by hazel_athena - roronoa zoro / sanji vinsmoke [one pice]

so wise we grow by deaster - james t. kirk / spock

always got your back by sydneyxface - roronoa zoro / sanji vinsmoke

[xxxball-fondlerxxx]

living life as our founding mothers (writers of k/s fanfics in the 60s and 70s) intended (reading k/s smut in public spaces)

[selfoftheseus]

[amandagrayson]

Compatibility report for my Spirk fic To Catch a Fish.

[starseeker95]

Do not complain to me about how hard it is to navigate ao3 on mobile, young one. I hid under the bleachers and read Spirk fanfics on a BlackBerry during gym class. We are not the same.

[c4t1l1n4]

I know Spock’s misunderstanding of human things is generally played up, even by Spock himself because he’s a little shit like that, but I like to think there are some things Kirk/McCoy do that he genuinely does not understand.

Like they’re at some sort of carnival/festival and win one of those prize stuffed animals and Spock pretends to think that’s illogical and not understand the point of a worthless trinket but in reality he totally gets wanting to win something for your partner and feels all warm and fuzzy seeing them carry it around all night.

But then he swears, or makes a lewd comment or says something adult and McCoy gasps dramatically and covers the plushie’s ears and is like: ���how dare you, Spock?!”

And Spock looks over at Jim all confused, but Jim just nods seriously and is like: “you can’t say something like that in front of Mr. Fluffles.”

And Spock genuinely blue screens.

He’s careful about what he says the rest of the night and when they beam back aboard he finds time to corner Uhura and tries to figure out the best way to ask WTF he did wrong. Uhura gleefully (and between giggles) explains that plushies are “innocent” and should be treated in a similar way as children (with great respect, care and not saying crude/adult things around them.)

[akendara]

This is the best costume..!

Jim: Oh...!

Spock:..!!! *evaluates the fascination of the situation as a percentage*

Bones: *Hand-face*

[wanderingjedihistorian]

Chapters: 9/11 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: James T. Kirk, Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Spock (Star Trek), Nyota Uhura, Crew of the Starship Enterprise, Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody, Ghost Company Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), 212th Attack Battalion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars) Additional Tags: Space Anomalies, Inter-universe travel, Banter, Mission Fic, Finding a way home, Jim is a Little Shit, Leonard McCoy is so done, obi-wan kenobi is a nerd, Cody despairs of it sometimes but he loves his idiot Jedi anyway, A great time is had by all, Leonard McCoy is good at what he does and that's a problem for a Sith Lord in another universe, tags will be added as this is updated, IFDChallenge2023, International Fanworks Day 2023, Both crews have been through some things, Bones finds the chips and does not like the math, Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about this, Stubborn CC-2224 | Cody, Frank discussion of the less than stellar parts of the Republics policies Series: Part 1 of Live Long and May The Force Be With You

Chapter summary: The crews get more answers and they start to plan.

[whothehellisspock]

My favourite specific AOS/SNW Star Trek fanfic trope is Spock and Kirk giving Pike a heart attack by informing him that they are together.

Sam and Sarek are good options, too.

[captainsophiestark]

Not A Doctor

Bones McCoy x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Star Trek

Summary: Bones' SO hurts themselves on an away mission and has to stitch themselves up as well as they can to buy time for a med evac to the Enterprise

Word Count: 1,533

Category: Fluff, Humor, a little bit of Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Shit," I hissed, pressing a hand to my side as I slid down the wall. When I finally got up the courage to pull my hand back and look, it came away with a lot more blood than I'd hoped to find. I'd fallen pretty far and managed to avoid any broken bones based on my pain levels, but the wound in my side was gaping and looked concerningly serious.

I could practically hear the extended bridge crew chorusing "I told you so" from here.

As if on cue, my communicator beeped. I grimaced, but managed to take it out of my bag and open it to respond.

"What's up?" I groaned.

"Y/N, where are you?" came the voice of Jim Kirk, one of my best friends and the captain of the Enterprise. "Scotty's reporting he can only find two targets to beam up."

Dammit. That figured.

"I'm... not totally sure. I was trying to follow the signature on my tricorder to that plant I've been looking for when the ground just gave way under me. I'm not sure how far I fell, but I hit something pretty hard on the way down and I've got... quite the gash in my side."

Silence on the other end for a few moments, then:

"Hang tight. We're coming to find you."

The communicator hung up with a click, and I sighed, ignoring the flare of pain in my side. I had faith in Jim's determination and ability to find me, especially with Spock here helping him, but I still needed to do something if I wanted to be alive when they found me.

Thankfully, I'd watched my boyfriend, Doctor Leonard McCoy, stich people up often enough that I felt fairly confident I could do a passable job on myself. I dug some sewing supplies out of my bag that I hadn't removed from my last away mission misadventure, and pulled the hem of my shirt up to get a better look at the wound.

I grimaced, gritting my teeth and trying to prepare for this. I'd been so excited to join Kirk and Spock on this away mission. This planet was supposed to have one of the rarest plants in the galaxy, and I'd been looking forward to finding it since I'd first heard we'd be coming here. And now, I was at the bottom of this pit or cave or whatever, slowly bleeding out, without even a picture of the plant to show for it.

Ugh.

I tried to focus on my breathing as I threaded a needle and put it to my skin. I knew the wound needed to be disinfected before I totally closed it, but I didn't have anything on me to do that with, and I knew Bones would be able to take care of it for me if I could manage to get back to him.

I took a few deep breaths to steel myself, then stuck the needle through. I swore loudly and kept up a steady stream of expletives as I sewed up the wound. I pulled it closed as tightly as I dared, then held my jacket to my waist to try to staunch the remainder of the bleeding.

I sighed, long and hard, then leaned my head back against the wall of whatever hole I'd fallen into. I had no idea how long those stitches had taken me, but it certainly hadn't been quick. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too much longer before I heard Jim and Spock stumbling down some passage towards me.

I focused on deep breaths as the pain continued to throb in my side, completely zoning out to the time and environment around me. Finally, I heard some shuffling movement from a slightly more gradual incline up ahead of me. The voices of my friends echoed out, curious and searching.

"Y/N!"

"I'm here!" I called back, my voice a little weaker than normal. I cleared my throat, then tried again. "Here!"

A moment later, my friends came into view. Jim grinned at me as Spock started scanning the space, probably trying to decide on the best way to get me out of here.

"How're you holding up?" asked Jim. I forced a smile.

"Living the dream."

He scoffed, then moved to crouch beside me and put one of my arms over his shoulder.

"Spock! Come help me."

"We'll need to get around the corner and most of the way back up the incline we came down to reach a spot where Mr. Scott can register us," said Spock as he joined us. "There seems to be some property of this rock that's prohibiting the transporter signal from reaching us."

"Great," I huffed, grimacing as my friends pulled me to my feet. Even resting most of my weight on them, I was still seeing spots. "This is gonna be great."

Between the three of us, somehow, we managed to get back into transporter range. I almost lost consciousness at one point, but we'd paused, and I'd managed to pull myself back from the brink. When the Enterprise's transporter room finally materialized before me, the relief was palpable, not least of all because Bones was waiting for me.

"Y/N," he said, jumping to attention and rushing onto the pad to replace Jim at my side. With Spock's help, we started moving immediately for the Med Bay. "What happened?"

"I was following the signature of the plant I was looking for on my tricorder. Then all of a sudden, the ground gave way underneath me. It wasn't a straight drop, I don't think, but I fell a pretty long way, bouncing off the rock slide and the walls of the cave I fell into on the way down. I'm bruised, but I don't think it's anything bad besides the cut on my stomach."

Bones nodded. "We'll get you to Med Bay and make sure."

Luckily, my boyfriend was very good at staying calm and focused in a crisis for his patients. He was completely in the zone as he and Spock helped me into a bed once we reached Med Bay, and then Bones started checking my vitals and assessing my injuries. I watched him carefully for any break in his usual bedside manner to tell me if I needed to be worried about something, but none came.

Hopefully that was a good sign, and not just because he was an incredible doctor.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to me, Bones returned from his testing and reappeared by  my bedside. His hands were on his hips, but he seemed calmer, and definitely out of intense doctor mode.

"Alright, the good news is you'll be just fine. But I'm still gonna need to disinfect the wound and stitch you up," he said. I gave him the best smile I could muster.

"Sounds like a plan."

He sighed, then gently lifted my shirt high enough to give him access to the gash in my side. The light touch of his fingertips sent goosebumps along my skin, but I did my best to ignore them, especially as Bones frowned.

"What the hell did you do to yourself?" he asked, not looking away from his work on my side.

"Uh... I slammed into a rock. We covered this already, remember?"

"No, I didn't mean your injury." Bones paused and looked up at me, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. "I meant these stitches. Yikes."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, making Bones chuckle as he got back to work.

"Okay, whatever. I'm a biologist, not a doctor, dammit. I think I did a pretty good job, considering the circumstances."

"Mm, I guess so. Barely."

"Hey!" I laughed, hitting him lightly in the shoulder. "You better knock it off or I'm gonna start practicing my stitches on you."

Bones snorted, but I could see the smile on his face as he continued working. Thanks to the medical facilities of the Enterprise, it barely hurt as he undid my messy job and redid it with a much better one of his own.

"So... what are you doing after this?" I asked after a few long moments of letting him work in peace. He paused to look up at me again, one eyebrow raised.

"Don't tell me you're hitting on your own boyfriend after only the low-level painkillers I gave you?"

"I can and will hit on my own boyfriend whenever I want, no painkillers required. But I was mostly asking if you had other patients to deal with after me, or if you'd be free to come cuddle on the couch and eat junk food with me. I think it'd really help speed up my recovery process."

Bones' mouth quirked into a smile again as he put the finishing touches on my stitches.

"Well if it's for the wellness of a patient... I think Nurse Chapel might be willing to take over from me for the rest of the day."

"Thank goodness for Christine."

Bones and I shared a smile, then he returned to his work and I watched him contentedly. Obviously, life and death situations on away missions were never ideal—but I couldn't really bring myself to be upset about how this one had played out, even if I hadn't managed to get my plant in the end.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[kiscon]

Call to Artists for KiScon Artshow submissions! Deadline- 15 September

The art show aims to showcase a wide variety of K/S fan art, trying to convey how rich in talent and creativity our fandom is.

To ensure that both in-person and online attendees can enjoy the show, it will be presented via a slideshow vid that will be accessible online throughout the convention weekend (and afterwards on our website). We will also show it on the big screen during the opening ceremony on Friday night.

The art show and the auction usually overlap, but you can sell artworks at the auction that are not featured in the art show and submit art to the art show that is not for sale. You do not need to be a registered attendee to submit art to the art show or to the auction!

You can submit both digital art and traditional art that feature Kirk or Spock or both (K/S or K&S) that you created (paintings, drawings/prints, but also three-dimensional artworks like sculptures, amigurumi, fibre craft, jewellery etc.); the latter needs to be either scanned or photographed. The show itself is purely digital and welcomes pieces from all K/S fans, not only registered con attendees.

If you would like to see for yourself what this art show will be like, please have a look at our 2022 or 2023 vid. We do not accept AI-generated art for the art show! Good-quality files in jpg or png format (300 dpi) are recommended, so that your work will look its best in the vid. Please include your exact artist name and the title of your works, plus any kind of information (e.g. medium, year of creation) that you would like us to mention. The artworks do not need to have been created for the convention, but can be as old or new as they come. You can only submit art to the art show that you have created yourself or for which you have express permission from the creator (e.g. a friend who’s not active in fandom anymore but gave you the permission to submit their artworks). 

You can find the form and more information (If you do wish to include your art in the auction, for example) here on the website! https://kiscon.org/art.html or you can submit directly on the form.

~1lostone

[taska-rokanh]

Befriending Spock Headcanons

My first Star Trek content! Spock is my favorite character by far and I feel like he needs some love. A lot of my Star Trek content will be romantic, but I feel like especially with Spock, it's necessary to explore the first steps of just becoming friends, because it's harder to break down his walls and he's not one to just act on attraction at first sight.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.1 k

- People have very different, often very polarizing opinions on Commander Spock. You'd heard more than enough stories about how cold, calculating, unforgiving, and inhuman he was. 

- But when you met him, all you could think was that he was so cool.

- He was incredibly intelligent, capable of making smart and informed decisions regarding basically any situation that affected the ship in minutes, and always acted with absolute certainty. Despite that, he did not want a command of his own and readily accepted his own mistakes, readjusting accordingly. What was there not to admire?

- You tried your best to be friendly, but you knew it was a long shot. Not only was he a Vulcan, he was your commanding officer. You weren't sure how he regarded any sort of personal relationship, really.

- Still, you found yourself engaging him in light conversation in the halls, the mess hall, or the lift. You broke it off quickly if it didn't seem like he wanted to talk, which surprisingly was very infrequent. If you got him talking about science, or the history and philosophy of Vulcan, it was quite easy to get him to talk.

- Spock is... I'm not sure how he would describe it, but I suppose, pleasantly surprised to find someone that not only tolerates his discussion of such topics, but actively pursues them.

- Whether you know it or not, you've chosen the most effective method of breaking the ice.

- Spock encourages this by consulting you on data that is outside of the normal scope of your duties as often as possible. He enjoys being challenged, and surmises that you must, as well. You have a natural curiosity and a scientific mind, one that with proper training could even attain his level of authority in time. These discussions don't feel like replacement training sessions so much as informal academic chatter, though.

- Spock starts to show that he considers you a friend through verbal encouragement first. It's often very dry and hard to detect, but it's there.

- He once corrected you regarding a postulation you'd made when analyzing some data that was adjacent to your field. You said, "Oh, right, that makes more sense. Sorry, I'm a little stupid sometimes," out of habit, something that you knew you should probably grow out of.

- He looked at you, perplexed. "Ensign, you should not insult yourself for being unaware of a highly specialized piece of information that allowed me to see the facts in this particular light. Every scientist, no matter how intelligent, has their blind spots."

- You smiled at his encouragement before raising your eyebrow in doubt. "Even you?"

- Spock hesitated for a moment before considering his ineptitude in handling his friendship with his captain and now, it appeared, you as well. "Of course."

- You didn't believe him, but thought it was sweet of him to say so. "Thanks, Commander."

- "You may call me Mr. Spock, or Spock, if you prefer."

- "Sure thing, Mr. Spock."

- The Mr. gets dropped shortly after.

- Every smile you manage to get out of him is an absolute treasure, as it is very rare. Something tells me that the first smile he gives you would be in a situation in which you are distressed and he is trying to reassure you, perhaps he sustained a nasty injury and you are very concerned. The smile is fleeting and feels a little unnatural, but the effort he put into it was enough to convince you that he would recover. little did you know there was little effort expended--seeing your care for him, it was almost irresistible.

- Every smile you give him is treasured by him, though they are so much more frequent. It is true that humans smile with so little provocation, but it's still nice to know sometimes that he's the reason and not the butt of some joke (looking at you, Kirk and Bones)

- There are two facts about Vulcans that are very relevant to this situation: 1) Vulcans are touch telepaths, meaning that touch is very, incredibly personal and reserved for special situations (except for Sarek and Amanda cuz they're whores), and 2) Vulcans are, in fact, very emotional people.

- Keeping these facts in mind, there must be some way for Spock to express his feelings of appreciation and camaraderie for you, and it cannot be in the average human manner (handshakes, pats on the back, high fives)

- So instead, he takes a more vested interest in your wellbeing, asking if you've eaten, drank water, slept, etc. especially when you've come back from an away mission and are busy analyzing new data.

- You often seem to find each other following each of the Enterprise's adventures. These are often time-sensitive and life-threatening, and as a low-ranking science officer, often your only orders are to stay put and protect yourself. 

- The first time or two after you've become friends, you try to hide how shaken you are--you know you're fine, really. You just can't help that your reaction to coming down off the adrenaline high is to literally shake and sometimes cry a bit.

- However, Spock sees through what you're trying to do and reassures you that you are safe. "I know."

- "I intended to convey that you are safe to express any emotions you may currently be experiencing."

- Oh.

- You usually end up sitting with Spock somewhere, your quarters, your lab, the mess hall, the holodeck, shaking and crying before recovering after a bit. The emotional expression always makes Spock a bit uncomfortable--not because he's disgusted by it, but because he doesn't have/doesn't feel comfortable expressing the skills or the emotional intelligence needed to interact with them. 

- His simply being there is enough. You recover in 15 minutes or so and can carry on as before.

- "Have you considered consulting Dr. McCoy regarding the management of your anxiety surrounding these events? They seem to cause you a high degree of stress."

- You shrugged. "It's just my body's response, it doesn't bother me," you reassured him. "Besides, I've got you."

- The feeling of being needed in a way not associated with his intelligence or his duty was unexpectedly welcome.

- In time, he comes to take a more active role, bringing you food and water while you're working or offering to make a bit of progress on your work while you take a short rest--Vulcans don't require as much sleep as humans, after all.

- After a while of this, you mention to him that you feel that you could be a more proactive friend, when he takes so much time and effort to look out for you, and ask him what you could do.

- He looks at you, perplexed. "Your presence in my life is quite sufficient," he assures you. "Your companionship proves to be a gratifying part of my daily routine in any measure."

- He has no idea how sweet he can be.