#bones is such a creature. ignore spock being even more creature

[hahahalfwit]

I HATE MIRROR MIRROR IM GOIGN TO FROW UP

[shutupanddance]

#3 with Bones

@lo14ry19 asked: “If you’re still taking requests…. Number 3 with AOS Bones?”

Okay y’all must REALLY love Bones because nothing has blown up as fast as my content on him! He is definitely my favorite Star Trek hottie tho so I’m not complaining. I hope you like this hun!! I decided to make a whole one shot because I couldn’t figure out how to do this in headcanons.

It was a simple mission. Get in, make friends, get out. But when the surface of the planet is a metaphorical minefield, it’s not that easy.

You were currently stepping gingerly across some volcanic rock, and gaining very little ground. To the north, water spouts were exploding into the air as ocean waves hit the rocks, and to the south, lava was spewing out of several places. You were *trying* to move east. At least, that’s the way Captain Kirk was walking. But the more he scratched his head and laughed nervously, the less confident you felt. Where was this civilization you were supposed to make contact with? There were no signs of it from what you could see.

Behind you, Spock and Bones were arguing, as is to be expected. You weren’t sure what had started it; you tend to ignore their fights automatically. Their words had about as much consequence to you as the bird-like creatures chattering in the distance, until they brought you into it.

“I bet she’d agree,” Leonard is saying, and you dread whatever you’re about to be dragged into.

“What?” You shout over your shoulder, trudging along.

“Can you settle something for us?”

You pivot in place, and they’re still arguing.

“That isn’t necessary,” Spock says, “I’m sure Y/N would be-“

You drop.

You’re not exactly sure what happened, or how it happened. Must have been a misplaced foot or too much weight in one spot. But either way, the ground had given out from under you, and you were sent plummeting into the darkness along with some lava rock.

You were aware only of the blackness of your surroundings, and how much it hurt as you continued to slide and roll further into what you assumed was a lava tube. You’d heard about these from one of the away team geologists, how when lava runs around something and then that something decays or is moved, it forms a tube. The lecture was running through your mind as you tumbled further into the planet. When you finally stopped moving, you couldn’t remember if the ensign had mentioned anything about navigating these lava tubes.

It was quiet down here, and you find yourself beginning to panic. Bile rises in your throat and you heart rate spikes. You’re alone. Deep in some sort of cave. And you can’t see a thing.

The ground feels freezing underneath you. You can hear some more small rocks clattering down the tube towards you, but nothing else. The team will find you, right? You should stay put for awhile. They have Ground Penetrating Radar that can detect you, and they’ll send someone down to get you.

In order to distract yourself, you try to think through who they’ll send. The Captain would want to go, but they also need to reach the civilization before dark. So they’ll split up. The geologist will probably stay to use the GPR, and Spock will go with Kirk, as usual. Where will Bones go? Leonard…

If someone ever asked you about your feelings for the doctor, you’d deny it. But if Nyota got you drunk and asked the same question, you’d admit everything. You had liked McCoy ever since you joined the Enterprise. Being Jim Kirk’s friend from the academy, you automatically made friends with anyone who could tell Jim off and get away with it, and Leonard definitely fell into that category. When the Captain screwed up, it was you two who set him straight. You and Bones always been friends, eating lunch together, going on missions together, and even working together from time to time. When you couldn’t sleep, you’d come down to the med bag and help organize files or equipment. Leonard’s drawers never had labels on them before.

A memory of him scratching his head at the little stickers made you smile, but it was interrupted by your name, shouted loud and clear. Bones.

“I’m here!” You screamed, your voice cracking.

Quick feet tapped across the lava rock towards you, and you wished so badly that you could see him.

“I’ve got you,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

You wiggled around a bit, feeling for any major injuries.

“No I think- I think I’m okay. I’m okay. Just very bruised.” You laugh dryly, but it quickly turns into tears. Why were you crying? You couldn’t stop. Your breathing came in short gasps again and you began to shake.

“Hey. Hey.” Leonard quickly sat down with you, and pulled you to him with one arm around your waist. His other hand he placed on your chest, reminding you to breath normally. His lips ghosted the hair above your ear, a quiet kiss.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, and you nodded minutely.

Once your breathing had evened, you could feel his encouraging smile against your ear, and the soft tug of his hand at your waist. He felt warm and safe, and suddenly crying over the cave seemed foolish.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, and he leaned away slightly.

“Don’t be. We all have moments like these.”

He began to stand up, using his hand on your waist to guide you up as well.

“I can’t see a thing,” you said nervously.

“I know. Just close your eyes. And listen. And trust me. I’m going to tell you where to step.” His voice was probably the most comforting thing you could have asked for, and you were immensely glad that they sent Leonard instead of anyone else.

“Close my eyes? I already can’t see.”

“Exactly. But you expect to see darkness when your eyes are closed, not when they’re opened. Just shut them tight, and you’re less likely to panic about how dark it is.”

It sounded stupid, but you tried it anyway. He was right.

“Okay,” you breathed, and he began to guide you out of the cave.

His hand never left your waist.

[annoyedfanfiction]

@groovyfluxie​ requested: romantic/fluffy TOS Spock x Genderqueer!Reader (she/they pronouns) x TOS Dr. McCoy polyamorous relationship while on the Enterprise

I’m so sorry this took so long!!! I hope you enjoy it.

Set in TOS “Arena” (1x19)

“What do you mean we can’t beam them up?” Leonard’s voice was rough and anxious in the background of the comm line. “It’s alright, Len.” “How is this–“ “We’ll look after each other,” you assured him, voice soothing even as you crouched behind a pile of rubble. “We’re together. You just better be there when we beam back up.” “I’m not going anywhere,” he rumbled, and you smiled, though you knew he couldn’t see it. “Love you, Len.” “If you two are quite done,” Jim teased, snatching his comm back, “Sulu, notify us when it is possible to beam back up.”

“Lang!” You leapt for cover as their fire rained around you, side stinging with a shot, but your companion wasn’t so lucky. “(L/N), what’s going on?” Your communicator buzzed to life. “Lang’s down, Captain.” You hissed as your hand traced over the burn of something that wasn’t quite a phaser. “Are you hit, Lieutenant?” Spock’s voice, now, low and level, but concerned. “Nothing serious,” you assured him, though it was rather unconvincing when followed immediately by a sharp scream. One of the large, lizard-like creatures loomed over you, phaser in hand. “Lieutenant?” You rolled to the side as it aimed for you, taking its legs out with you. It crashed to the ground, strong and fierce but not agile. Its weapon skidded from its hand and you bolted, snatching up the fallen weapon and plunging behind a further pile as the fire started up again. Someone yelled an order and the barrage stopped for a moment. You peaked out just in time to see your attacker return back to the high ground and you took off, weapons whirring back to life as you skidded out of range.

“It’s fine, Len. We’re together, Len. Stop worrying, Len,” Leonard muttered the mimicry under his breath as Chapel finished taking samples from your seared flesh and bandaged you up. You rolled your eyes, used to the frustration with which he expressed concern. It wasn’t ideal but you’d known him for long enough not to take it personally. “I’m fine, aren’t I?” “Define “fine”,” he retorted, pulling the curtain shut behind Chapel. “You were shot – twice – with an unknown weapon.” “And you’ve fixed me.” You made grabby hands at him and he sighed, but moved into range. You immediately pulled him to you, hands going up to cup his face. He wouldn’t look at you. “Come on, darling. Look at me.” His eyes finally flicked to yours, swirling with fear and relief and love. “I’m sorry for worrying you.” He glared down at you for a moment longer, but you could feel him melting, before he finally brought his lips down to meet yours. “Just don’t do it again.” The words were mumbled against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours. “It is highly unlikely they would intend for this to happen.” You smiled up at Spock as Leonard grumbled. “Are you well, th’y’la?” “They’ve been shot, of course they’re not–“ “Len fixed me right up, ashayam,” you assured him, cutting Leonard off, thumb brushing over the graze on Spock’s cheek. “You’re hurt too!” Instantly, Spock was shoved onto the bed beside you. “Stay there. I’ll get the regen.” He huffed out, curtains swishing around him, and you just leaned into Spock, both of you knowing better than to argue. “I believe we ought to be more careful, ashayam,” Spock mused, as Leonard buzzed about with the regenerator. “If only to preserve the good doctor’s mental fitness.” “Why you green-blooded bastard–“

“What are you going to do, Mr Spock?” Bones demanded, coming up to the Captain’s chair. You sighed, preparing for yet another argument. “I'm going to wait, Doctor. There's little else I can do.” That was not the answer Bones wanted and both you and Spock knew it. “What about the Captain?” He ignored you murmuring his name. “If I could help him, I would.” Spock’s voice was heavy in a way that only those who knew him truly would recognise. Unfortunately for him, the Bridge crew was loaded with those who knew him. “I cannot.” “Now, you're the one that's always talking about logic!” “Bones,” you warned, sliding to your feet. “What about some logic now? Where's the Captain, Mister Spock?” There was no true vitriol in Bones’ voice. Just worry, fear. “He's out there, Doctor. Out there somewhere in a thousand cubic parsecs of space, and there's absolutely nothing we can do to help him.” Silence fell heavily and you wanted nothing more than to gather Spock into your arms, let him know that you were there. But that wasn’t Spock. So you laid a firm hand on his shoulder, feeling Bones lean into your side, weary and scared and hopeful, but still holding you up more than you were him. You locked one hand in the doctor’s hair, letting your fingers trail patterns along his scalp. Spock glanced up at you, eyes warm in his impassive face, then looked back to the screen.

“This is the U.S.S. Enterprise calling the Metrons. Our channels are open. Come in, please. We urgently desire a conference. Please answer.” “The ship, our engines, our weapons. It's just inconceivable that we are immobilised,” Bones was trying to be hopeful, frustration brimming through his voice. “But it has happened, Doctor.” The room dimmed, screen swirling to life in a blaze of colour. “We are the Metrons. Your Captain is losing his battle.” Your heart dropped in your chest. “We would suggest you make whatever memorial arrangements, if any, which are customary in your culture. We believe you have very little time left.” “We appeal to you in the name of civilisation. Put a stop to this!” Bones demanded, and this time neither of you noticed the tired look Spock offered him. “Your violent intent and actions demonstrate that you are not civilised. However, we are not without compassion. It is possible you may have feelings toward your Captain.” Bones spluttered, and you squeezed his hand tightly. “So that you will be able to prepare yourself, we will allow you to see and hear what is now transpiring.” “Not without compassion?” You snarled, and the image that was appearing paused, flickering back into the whirlwind of colour that had spoken. “You speak of compassion and civilisation but if this is your sick idea of entertainment what does that say about you?” You heard Spock’s warning tone, but you were going to finish this if it killed you. “Both of those beings down there are people. They have crews to care for. Friends. Family. And you’re forcing them to kill one another? Just so that you can kill the losing crew?” The light snapped an angry red. “If you’re powerful enough to immobilise our ship, to send them to a world where they can create weapons, then you are powerful enough to prevent negotiations from becoming violent. So put an end to this and let us negotiate.” “You cannot negotiate! You are violent and uncivilised!” “No! We are hurting!” Silence echoed. The screen flashed into blackness, then an image of Jim and the Gorn appeared. Jim stuck his finger into the powdery substance encrusting the rock and brought it to his lips, screwing his face up and immediately spitting it out. But there was realisation in his eyes. “If only there was some way we could contact him,” Bones lamented, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you to him. He pressed a kiss to your head, kind enough not to acknowledge the tears gathering in your eyes. “Yes, indeed, Doctor, if only there were,” Spock agreed, for the first time. “Notice the substance encrusting that rock. Yes. Unless I'm mistaken, it's potassium nitrate.” “So?” “Perhaps nothing, Doctor.” He paused, eyes fixed to the screen. “Perhaps everything.” “Gunpowder.” You rolled your eyes at Spock’s riddled musing, fondly exasperated. His lips twitched into a slight smirk, almost invisible except that you knew what to look for. Bones huffed beside you and you grinned up at him, despite yourself.

“I take it back. I don’t want to negotiate anymore,” you whined, as Spock carefully fixed the collar of your uniform. A half-smile. “You were adamant earlier, Ambassador.” The door to your chambers slid open. “Human error, Commander.” You smirked up at him. “You wouldn’t know such a thing.” “Stop flirting,” Bones scolded, leaning against the doorframe. “Jealous, Len?” you teased, letting him sweep you into his arms. He rolled his eyes, planting a gentle kiss to your lips anyway. “It is highly illogical to be jealous of one’s own partners, Leonard.” Spock watched you, eyebrow raised and hands tucked behind his back. “Green’s your colour anyway,” Bones muttered, tugging you with him to pull Spock into a kiss. “You’re going to mess up my hair,” you warned, as Spock’s deft fingers traced up your cheek, tangling around the back of your neck. The door slid open again and you jumped, guiltily, only to be met by Jim’s laughter. “Come on, lovebirds. I need to borrow the Ambassador.” Your cheeks must have been as hot as Spock’s were flushed green as Jim laughed. Bones, unruffled by the intrusion, just rolled his eyes, scoffing about washing his eyes out after walking in on Jim that many goddamn times– You smoothed your uniform down and linked your arm with Jim’s. Behind you, Spock fixed Bones’ collar before they followed you to the transporter bay.

[kinetic-elaboration]

April 10: 2x14 Wolf in the Fold

Watched Wolf in the Fold last night. The only thing I really remembered about this ep going in was that it was a Scotty ep. Which is true but also… slightly misleading. Also that it had to do with Jack the Ripper—which is more true than I remembered!

A decadent intro… I get why Spock isn’t here but I actually DO think he would be into it.

Matchmaker Kirk lol.

Scotty is so awkward. This is the other detail I remembered from this ep, actually: how Scotty wants to applaud using his hands no matter what. (Even with those cool lights RIGHT THERE lol). Old Aberdeen pub crawler…

This is honestly such a bizarre back story: Scotty got a concussion because someone who happened to be a woman made a mistake and now not only is his head all funny but he has a “total resentment toward women.” Like okay, nothing creepily sexist in that concept. Also –they ultimately barely even use it! I know it’s the implied rationale for why he would suddenly start murdering women and also not remembering it but it’s like such a flimsy excuse that they never say it out loud in so many words for fear it should sound too stupid. Which it would. Honestly, you really only need the concussion imo. Why go into the weird misogyny thing at all?

And now Kirk and Bons head off to a brothel, giving me a total resentment toward men.

Nice eerie fog out here. Very Aberdeenian.

Okay, so this woman was stabbed a dozen times but she only screamed once? And then a second later, Scotty had somehow teleported several feet away, still holding the knife? He’s good at his job but he’s not that good. This is already deeply suspicious.

“Therapeutic shore leave.” Trying to cure his hatred of ladies lmao.

So this weird little bald man, Hengist, from Rigel IV. Is he an alien? I suppose he must be. Rigellians are a race, as we know from Journey to Babel. It’s not always clear to me which groups of people are Earth colonists who have migrated to or been born on other planets and which are humanoid aliens.

The Aurelians are a gentle, harmless people. Cute. I like these aliens.

I wish we could hire aliens to be our administrators. Alien Overlord and Taylor.

“I’ll be taking over, since I am the highest official.” He out-officialed him.

I like this guy and his slightly creepy empath priestess wife. I feel like Spock would like them, too.

Speaking of: Spock in the captain’s chair. Hot.

I don’t get how this planet is the only space port around. Like… could not any planet be a space port? What does that even mean?

Oh no, a woman with the lie detector machine! She must be incompetent and/or to be despised.

I love Sybo’s outfit. Her hair and jewelry too. Honestly just a great head-to-toe look.

Another murder! Sorry but this one is on the Aurelian for just leaving the murder weapon out there unattended.

Generally speaking, the costume and set people are doing allllll the work in this episode.

Hengist went to look for suspects and he came up with the victim’s father and fiancé?? He’s not even trying lol. Anyway, he obviously did it.

How can you NOT tell if a lock was picked or not? I mean I know McCoy is a doctor, not a locksmith, but come on. It can’t be that ambiguous.

Spooky mumbo-jumbo.

Interesting that Spock doesn’t trust the mumbo-jumbo either. I guess he only approves of it when it’s Vulcan.

When Sybo says “monstrous evil” the camera is looking right at Hengist. Not suspicious at all. He’s only clearly railroading Scotty, looked right at the second victim before she was killed, was in the perfect position to take the murder weapon after it was carelessly left about, and is the most obvious non-Scotty suspect here.

I love how loyal Bones is. He literally saw Scotty holding Sybo and the knife with blood on his hands and is like “It’s impossible he could have done it.”

So many of the “truth discovery” devices on TOS are truly creepy. Like they’re all clear plot devices, and for that reason depicted as completely reliable, and the more completely reliable they are, the more deeply disturbing they become upon any reflection at all.

That’s a pretty computer though. All those pretty flashing lights! And it runs on floppy disks.

I literally just remembered what happened.

“Scotty, lie to me, how old are you?” / “Twenty-two, Sir.” Yeah, I’d say that’s a lie.

So like this allegedly all-powerful computer is literally just a lie detector. That’s it! A lie detector that picks up on psychological signs of lying, just like our lie detectors today. I mean… you could have just said that straight out. All they do is show what a person believes to be true, so in the case where someone truly doesn’t remember something, the usefulness is… limited.

My mom suggested a Vulcan mind meld which, actually, would pretty much solve the problem! But for once Spock actually treats it like something serious and not to be thrown out as a solution to all problems at the merest suggestion.

Someone needs to do a fashion line based entirely on the Argellian outfits.

Spock is internally eye-rolling at all this drama. I feel like he’s a real advocate for the computers today. That’s like… really his only role.

The computer’s linguistics banks don’t know what this word means? Maybe we should get Uhura on the case.

Plot twist: the killer was Jack the Ripper the WHOLE TIME! The last one you’d ever expect.

I don’t get how the computer made the leap from Redjac to Jack the Ripper since that is not a real word and no one outside of this episode of TOS has ever used it for Jack the Ripper.

“Everyone feeds on death, even vegetarians.” So dark, Spock. So emo.

Aw, alien creatures that derive sustenance from love. Adorable. There should have been an episode devoted to them. (Wait a minute…. Idea coming on…)

Speaking of gaseous cloud aliens…the Companion?

This episode really relies a lot on the computer to provide information and otherwise move the plot along.

Kirk keeps ignoring everyone to just talk to Spock.

“Cloud the issue” lol that’s a good pun. (Already can’t remember who said it but… point stands.)

The cloud entity feeds on women because they are more easily and deeply terrified. That sounds fake but okay. It’s also not in keeping with what Sybo said, is it? She mentioned a hatred of women. That’s not the same as finding women useful.

Hmm, when do we get our Martian Colonies, @ perseverance?

Oh, Rigel IV, you say? There seems to be a Rigellian right here!

This whole history of the entity is bizarre. The first killing sprees (that we know of) are on Earth, and Kirk specifically says that when man left Earth to explore, he took this with him. Does that mean… the cloud creature/entity originated on Earth? Truly a bizarre hypothesis, when you think about it.

Are you the entity, Sir?

There is actually very little Scotty in this Scotty-centric episode.

Lol the knife originates with the hill people of Rigel IV. What is this, Deliverance?

Omg Kirk punched the entity right out of that man!

So to summarize: “Jack the Ripper is actually a gaseous cloud that is capable of infecting the computer system of the Enterprise, thus hijacking the whole ship” is the basic, wacky concept of this episode.

This tranquilizer could quiet a volcano. Where was it during the volcano scene in STID hmm?

Kirk’s plan to keep people from being scared by the maniacal voice of the entity: Tranquilize the entire ship. That’s why he’s paid the big bucks.

Yet another twist on the old Kirk v. Computer plot. Time to use Math to defeat it.

Kirk is so unimpressed with the entity. “Eh, shut that off.” He would not be moved by a haunted house.

“This is the first time I’ve heard a malfunction threaten us.” Sulu can man his post AND be funny; he’s multi-talented.

Kirk and Spock don’t need tranquilizers because they’re smart enough to know this high-pitched voice yelling random threats just isn’t actually scary.

Kirk is really insistent that Sulu man his frickin’ post!

Oh no, not PI!! My nemesis, PI!

I’m really living for Sulu here.

If the entity entered a tranquilized person, it might take up knitting. I gotta say, that doesn’t make any sense as a plot point but I like it anyway.

That was a very efficient tranquilizing job! Everyone in a 400+ person ship in like 10 minutes? Get the medical team on the Enterprise in charge of the vaccine distribution stat.

Kirk just outright assumes that Spock won’t be a hospitable entity choice. And he’s not even wrong! The entity chooses the dead body over Spock or Kirk. It knows when it’s not wanted.

Hengist has been revived!

The entity is honestly, truly hilarious. Die, die, everybody die! Kill! Kill you all! Maniacal laughter! All while being carried by a still utterly unimpressed Kirk down the halls of the ship.

Spock’s like “get out of the way, you tranquilized idiot. Got some entity-scattering to do.”

“I gave them a pretty big shot, Jim!” Think you might have slightly overdone it, Bones? You didn’t need to make everyone useless for 6 hours for a problem that was solved in 5 minutes!

This is one of those moments, Kirk trying to get Spock to see the pretty ladies with him, when Spock seems super gay. Like, I don’t even think he is, that’s not my reading of him, and I also assume that wasn’t the intention here, but that’s just so clearly how it reads.

Aw, Kirk doesn’t want to go the strip club alone. Poor bb.

Weird how Lt. Leslie was in this when he died in the last episode.

Overall, I’d actually have to say that was a very crack-y episode. I liked the ending the best because it was so ridiculous.

What I don’t understand, in addition to whether or not the entity was really supposed to be from Earth, was how it came to be Hengist. Like, it can enter and leave bodies (or computers) at will, so perhaps it just entered Hengist, a normal Rigellian, at some point. But if that’s so, putting him on the transporter and scattering him into space was a pretty cruel thing to do. Also, why did he die (or appear to die) when the entity wasn’t in him? That implies he is the entity’s physical form. But then, first of all, how is also a Rigellian? Like did the entity mate with a Rigellian? Did the entity take over a baby Rigellian? Did the entity just claim to be Rigellian but is really just humanoid in its physical form—we did establish that some aliens, like this one, or creatures or whatever, are gaseous sometimes and solid others, so maybe its solid form is humanoid. Which would fit well with it originating in Earth, although that also brings a new and perhaps unintentional layer of creepiness to the story. I have to assume that’s the situation, but still, wild. And it doesn’t explain this: why does Hengist “die” when the entity “leaves” him, as opposed to just disappear entirely when the entity changes form??

Anyway, I know I’m overthinking this very wacky premise. Overall, I think the episode was fine. It didn’t have enough Scotty (for being a “Scotty episode”) and it changed genres an awful lot for 50 minutes. There was a tad too much misogyny going on. And overall I didn’t feel like the characters—even Kirk, and in actuality this was a Kirk episode much more than a Scotty episode, and purposefully so—were at their most interesting. Tbh Sulu ultimately stole the show in the final minutes.

Next up is the Trouble with Tribbles! Also a funny episode but at least undeniably purposefully so!

[hurt-spock]

Fic: Everything’s Not Lost- Chapter Two

McCoy sat and looked at the way the shuttle peaked out from the water now.

It seemed to be sinking further into the mud or sand below it as it filled with water. McCoy shuddered as he imagined that watery grave. Of Jim and a landing party finding their lifeless bodies inside.

The ground was soggy from the gentle rain that fell around them but they did get some shelter from the trees. Spock had closed his eyes not long after they had taken shelter. McCoy didn't think he was sleeping. He wasn't one to sleep if they weren't in a safe position, but he did need to get his energy back and the best way to do that was to do nothing other than that. So he stayed silent and let Spock rest. He ate and took note of their supplies, going through both emergency kits. He took his own medical kit and put some supplies into Spock's kit so that if for some reason they got separated, Spock would have items that might help him.

When Spock was recovered enough, Bones wanted to take a look at Spock's hands. They rested comfortably across Spock's midsection, which he could also do with having a look at. But, there wasn't a lot of blood and he didn't think Spock was too injured from anything.

Eventually, Spock came back to awareness. He took stock of their surroundings and himself and the Doctor.

“Doctor?” Spock said.

“It's been quiet around here,” McCoy replied, knowing that it was both a greeting and a query. “I haven't seen anyone or anything. No signs of life at all. Although maybe the weather is keeping everyone away.”

“I doubt a little rain would stop anyone who was truly curious from investigating what it was that crashed here. I believe we may be fortunate enough to be in an uninhabited part of the planet.”

“Lucky us, I guess,” McCoy said. “Let me take a look at your hands.”

Spock hesitated just a moment before slipping off the gloves carefully. It was a good job they had them in the shuttle as they had protected Spock from a lot worse damage. But he still had suffered some injuries.

McCoy looked at Spock's hands without touching, knowing that Spock didn't like skin to skin contact at the best of times not even taking into account how sensitive Vulcan hands actually were. He went from his bag and found a hypo for the pain and some salve. “You can put that on yourself,” McCoy told him, once he opened the pot for Spock.

Spock did as instructed and covered the wounds in the balm which had a numbing effect. McCoy then wrapped Spock's hands in a light bandage. “You can put the gloves back on if they give you some better protection.” Spock replaced the gloves and McCoy took a quick look at Spock's midsection. Some slight scraping and a longer cut down one side of Spock's torso but nothing bad.

“How is your leg?” Spock asked.

“It's okay. A little tender but I'll survive.

“You have a rather large bump on your head,”

“That explains the headache, then,” McCoy said. He gently probed the bump to see where it was exactly. “No blood?”

“No.”

“Well, I think I'm okay then. It doesn't hurt too bad either.”

“That is a relief,” Spock said.

“So how long do you think until the Enterprise gets to us?” McCoy asked after a beat.

Spock pondered the question, muttering some calculations aloud, such as their expected time of arrival back at the ship and the time it may take for them to be found. “I would expect a landing party to arrive within the next 24 hours.”

“24 hours?!” McCoy replied. It wasn't the news he was expecting.

“The shuttle is dead. It will give off a beacon but it is not powerful. They have to be looking close to the planet to find it. And they do not have a location for us. There are several planets and moons between the two destinations which they may have to check before they come to this one. However, Jim will not give up on us. I have no doubt about that. He is resourceful and there is no one I would rather have on the ship leading the way, searching for us.”

“Well that's true,” McCoy said and carefully stood up. He stepped away from the shelter of the trees and began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Spock asked.

“Nature calls,” McCoy replied.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Nah, I think I'll be okay,” he said but he couldn't ignore Spock's concerned look. “I'll be quick and I won't go far.”

Spock nodded and McCoy was out of sight. When McCoy returned Spock encouraged him to get some rest and despite some initial reluctance, McCoy was tired and decided to listen to the advice. They were safe where they were, they just needed to hang on a little longer.

~

Night fell and McCoy still slept.

He'd have been concerned about it and the head injury if McCoy had worked himself so hard on the planet they had visited. McCoy had taken a lot of care of them and while Spock had assisted him as well as he could, it was McCoy's field of expertise and he excelled in it.

Spock's awareness snapped back to him as a twig snapped somewhere behind them. There were plenty of things that it could be but Spock felt uneasy. Carefully, he turned to where the noise had come from and looked for any movement. He saw nothing but he did not feel at ease. Moving beside McCoy he gently woke the man and whispered to him. “I fear we may not be alone,” Spock said.

“Hang on,” McCoy said and shoved a flash-light into Spock's hand. “Maybe this will frighten them off,” he explained.

Spock nodded in the darkness. He flicked the light on, back to the area he heard the noise. He carefully panned it around the area and saw nothing moving. It still didn't make the uneasy feeling relinquish.

“What do you want to do?” McCoy asked. He trusted Spock's instincts as a leader.

“It would not be wise to move in the darkness. We should remain but stay vigilant,” Spock decided.

“Okay, I have another flash-light here. If we get them both on, we can keep a better lookout,” McCoy said as he pulled out the other one and flicked it on. Sitting back to back, they remained on guard for the rest of the night.

~

When morning came, Spock ventured into the woods to look for any traces that something other than small creatures had been close to them last night. He was relieved to find no traces but he still felt uneasy about their location.

They were so close to the crash site that if anyone came to see it, they were sitting ducks. But then when Jim arrived, he would be looking for the shuttle, and they needed to be close by. Spock took the time to really look around them. Was he missing a more obvious location they could wait it out that might offer better protection? There was the water and beyond that a rocky hill. They couldn't see beyond that and Spock didn't think it was worth wading across the water and climbing the not small hill when the other side might be no better than where they were. There was no shelter there anyway.

The trees offered some protection but as Spock moved further along, he noticed that there was another hilly area which seemed to have some recesses in it.

“Doctor, stay here. I am going to investigate up ahead,” Spock said.

“You think that's a good idea?” McCoy asked

“I plan to merely look from a safe distance. I shall take no risks,” Spock ensured.

“Well make sure you don't because we only have one another to rely on.”

Spock nodded and headed up towards the hill. The hill was partially rocky at the base and as Spock grew closer he could see there were some shallow nooks in the rocks and a few larger holes they went back, perhaps into caves. They seemed to be natural rather than man-made. A shallow nook would give them away to be more protected from the rear. Spock would suggest exploring the caves for better shelter if they were better equipped. But the nook would do them finely and Spock headed back to McCoy.

~

The rain fell heavily as they sat in there new location. It was drier than the trees but the rain was coming down too heavily, the ground was soaked.

The constant damp was not making McCoy feel great and he could only imagine how miserable Spock would be. He wasn't used to this kind of weather condition. He unwound the bandage around his leg and probed it gently. It felt pretty good considering. He cleaned and redressed the wound before turning to Spock and rechecking his injuries. The hand injuries were also healing well, something McCoy was relieved of. He knew the delicateness of Vulcan's hands. Spock left the gloves off after they were bandaged again.

“It should not be long before the rescue party is here,” Spock suggested. “I am sure they will be close.”

“I hope so,” McCoy lamented. “I can't wait to be dry.”

Spock knew McCoy was relying on him throughout this and already, Spock had misled McCoy. The Enterprise should have been here already. It shouldn't take that long for the ship to arrive, to trace them. But they weren't here.

The constant raining and the fact they had both been soaked through since escaping the craft, McCoy a little before that, not to mention the cold climate of the planet would not do either of them any good. While this location was better than the trees, it was still damp and cold. They were only just out of the rain, but anytime the wind blew, it would hit them.

The caves close by were tempting. Spock knew it was much more likely that creatures, perhaps even humanoids could live in those caves. However, it was going to be a risk he would be willing to take soon. Spock's own biology did not care for this climate at all, however, he did have the ability to control his body better than a human. McCoy was starting to shiver with the relentless chill from being damp. McCoy was his responsibility and he needed to take action. However, the risks were great. He had to sell the idea to McCoy in a way that didn't highlight Spock's need to do this solely for McCoy's benefit and that the risk they were taking was worth it.

“I have been thinking,” Spock started. “I think we should look at the option of exploring one of these caves for shelter.”

“Okay, but the Enterprise will be here soon, you just said-”

“It is overdue.”

Silence fell between them, save for the gentle wind and patter of rain surrounding them. “What does that mean?” McCoy asked, concern for the ship and his friends on board.

“There are so many variables to consider. They could have been held up at so many points along the way that us not being there may not even be a factor to them yet. So we need to find somewhere safer to wait.”

“I don't know, Spock. A cave is a big space.”

“We do not need to climb through the depths of the cave. Just far enough that we are sheltered from the elements. So that we could start a fire. The warmth would be most welcome. Dryness. And a source of light which may keep away anything that lurks in the caves.”

“Would we even be able to maintain a fire? We can't get firewood out there?”

Spock was relieved that McCoy seemed keen to go with the plan. “The kit should last 8 hours. We will have to think of how to keep it burning at that time.”

“Okay, let do it. But, we're doing this together, right?”

“Of course,” Spock appeased. “We will need to watch one another's backs, Doctor.”

McCoy nodded, his eyes betraying some fear at the prospect. “Okay, well then let's do this before I change my mind.”

[moderndaybard]

2020 Weekly Ficlet 43/52(? We’ll see?)

Ever At Your Side, Part 5/7 (Scotty) [New Trek/Pokemon Crossover. Because Why not.] 

(Part 1-Kirk; Part 2-Spock; Part 3-Bones; Part 4-Uhura; Part 6-Sulu; Part 7-Chekov)

-

Beginnings:

The day had been trying, confusing, exhausting, and long (when had he last slept? Before his academic hearing about that stupid simulation?), and Kirk was going on sheer willpower alone by this point—and that strained by the loss of Vulcan, meeting this guy who claimed to be Spock from the future/another world, and—

Well, just about everting at this point, to be perfectly honest.

He wasn’t sure why it was the flying sword that was getting to him the most after everything that had happened. After all, there was no mistaking the Doublade for anything other than the Steel/Ghost-type pokemon that it was. But the over-tired, over-wrought cadet found himself unable to tear his eyes away as the metallic specter hovered, swung itself in strange gestures and rang (for lack of a better word) in emphasis of the rambling tirade of the man who had to be its trainer.

Kirk spared a moment to glance at the older Vulcan beside him (which he still couldn’t bring himself to think of as Spock) and found that the other man and the elderly Alakazam hovering beside him were eyeing the pair in front of them with an expression of what could only be called ‘fond amusement’.

“Montgomery Scott…and Casper.”

“Aye, unless you know of any other wrongfully stranded Starfleet officers and their invaluable, irreplaceable partners in this sector!”

His day was determined to stay weird—wasn’t it?

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

Meetings:

Montgomery Scott knew what the other cadets at Starfleet Academy said about him—that he cared more for metal and machines than other living creatures, that he could spend his life alone and be perfectly content so long as he had plenty of projects to work on—he just didn’t really care. He was the best in his field at the Academy and already better than quite a few full officer s in Starfleet, and that invited grumbling and complaints from those used to being the only competent people in the room. He didn’t go out of his way to make enemies—tried his best to do the opposite, contrary to rumor—and he did like people and pokemon, he was just so at home with inorganic, mechanical matters.

(Having a partner pokemon was not a requirement for Academy admittance, but Scotty was one of only a handful of students without one.)

All that to say that it was not all that unusual for the second-year cadet to find himself alone in the Engineering Building late at night, working on his latest ‘pet projects’.

Only…

…Only, he wasn’t alone, if the intermittent scuffles and ‘clangs’ were any indication. At first, scotty ignored them (or, to be perfectly honest, probably didn’t hear/notice them), then he hesitated a moment, a prank of some sort being exactly the sort of thing he’d expect his fellow students to pull on him, given his ‘outsider’(-ish) status. But finally, he couldn’t restrain his curiosity and a budding feeling of what might even be concern (though he couldn’t say why) and he stood up from his work area, inching slowly in the direction the sounds seemed to be coming from.

It took him a few moments (and moving a few tables and cabinets) to reveal the source—a bedraggled and worse-for-wear single-bladed pokemon. A Honedge, but one of the must pathetic-looking Scotty had ever seen. Life in the wild (or, some trainer—which was a thought that didn’t bear thinking) had not been kind to this poor creature.

Heedless of whispered lore of ‘cursed blades’ or ‘possessed weapons’, the young cadet slowly extended is hand, palm up, towards the chipped and dented but still-floating, shivering sword. “Ah, just look at you. Who let you get into such a state? They ought to be ashamed, a beauty like you should be treated better than that.” Maybe it was the quiet voice, the gentle tone, or maybe the Honedge was simply that lonely and/or desperate, but it floated to Scotty, let him carry it to the worktable to see what could be done.

Steel-type pokemon, like many Rock-types, give experts a run for their money in determining if they are creatures or animated, inorganic constructs—they were unquestionably alive, were individuals with personality, but, for instance, many did not require food (but could and would nevertheless eat favored rocks/alloys/treats) and could benefit as much form mechanical repairs as medicines—and the Ghost-type brought in its own host of issues and questions, but Scotty didn’t care: in that moment or ever, really.

After all, he’d always treated (and spoken to) engines, vehicles, and mechanical devices as living creatures (in a sense) that he was entrusted with caring for, so taking the Honedge to his work area and doing what he could to fix dents, fill cracks, and file down scratched, all the while talking to his ‘patient’ as one would to an exceptionally intelligent dog or cat?

Well maybe he was strange, but he saw nothing strange about that at all.

-------------------- 

(2009)

From the moment he’d been assigned to the frozen wasteland of a class-M planet with no one but Keenser and Casper for company, Scotty had been concocting, envisioning, dreaming, hoping, wishing—eventually even praying for—increasingly improbable scenarios when he was finally able to leave. (Seems all those wise-crackers from back in the academy days were wrong—Montgomery Scott was starved for living company, the little he did have being his remaining anchor to sanity.)

Yet none of those hypothetical situations involved the destruction of a planet, two stranded Starfleet officers (One of whom was form the future…or else a really good liar), an impossible formula he would apparently come up with someday (except, now, he wouldn’t have to because he already knew it…no, he was not  going down that mental rabbit-hole/death spiral), beaming inside a ship’s water pipe, a near-drowning scenario, and being taken (still dripping wet) onto the bridge just in time to see one of his new friends goad his Vulcan captain into nearly killing him in order tog et him to resign command.

No, he hadn’t gotten around to imagining that one yet.

The security officer beside him tensed slightly, and Scotty followed his gaze to…oh, yeah. He’d probably better say or do something before any of these tightly-wound, very twitchy people lashed out:

Casper, like most Steel-types, did not like being wet, and Scotty knew better than to recall his partner Doublade before thoroughly drying him off, so the ghost-sword was currently hovering by his shoulder, dripping, grumbling unhappily in his curious tone ( which sounded very much like metal resonating after being struck with a hammer or against something sturdy) and occasionally giving a violent shudder in an attempt to rid himself of the hated water.

Scotty knew his partner well enough after so many ears together that the sight and around were amusing, a call for care, and about as serious a threat as, say, a dog trying to guilt their family for putting them through the dreaded ordeal of bath time. But to the security team, it clearly read like nothing so much as an aggressive, battle-ready pokemon getting ready to attack.

It still surprised the Engineer that people assumed his partner was dangerous or a threat—what, just because he resembled a pair of swords, he must always be seconds away from cutting down a person or pokemon?  That was almost as ridiculous as till believing those old stories about haunting and curses that still followed the Ghost-type. Still, best to break the tensions first, then go about correcting misconceptions.

“I like this ship! Very exciting.”

-

(Continued on AO3.)

[thedreamsmith]

How (Not) To Seduce a Blueshirt  (Chapter 1)

@atc74​ @arrowsandmixtapes​ @alleiradayne​ @captain-s-rogers​ for #OC appreciation day 2020

Warnings: Swearing

Pairing: Jim Kirk x OFC 

Summary:  In which Jim Kirk tries to catch the attention of the new science officer on the Enterprise. Scotty and Jaylah give the worst relationship advice. This is why Bones drinks.

‘We are now in orbit around Argratha, Keptin.’ Chekov called, his hands flying over the navigation console. ‘Have you chosen the away team for tomorrow’s first contact mission? …Keptin?’

James T Kirk had not heard a word that his navigation officer had said, for he had been too busy gazing at the new veterinary science officer as she leant over a console, deep in conversation with one of the other blue shirts.

That was, until a pointed cough from Mr Sulu dragged his attention back to matters at hand.

‘Did you hear me, Keptin?’ The bridge’s youngest officer made a valiant effort to keep his features neutral.

‘I believe the Captain was studying the…moon.’ Uhura’s voice was impassive but he just knew that she was smirking as she monitored the incoming transmissions from Argratha.

Something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle came from the direction of the navigation console, but he decided to ignore it. Jim consoled himself that at least it wasn’t Jaylah. Scotty’s third-in-command would’ve skipped the double entendre altogether and announced – loudly – to the entire bridge that the captain had been paying more attention to the doctor’s ass than their impending diplomatic mission.

Clearing his throat, he attempted to regain some semblance of dignity and pretend that his ears were not currently bright red. He failed miserably at both.

‘Ah…yes, what’s Argratha’s moon called again?’

Sulu opened his mouth to reply but Spock’s voice that rang out across the bridge.

‘Doctor Lyall?’

The bridge crew didn’t bother to hide their laughter this time and Jim sank further into the Captain’s chair – maybe he’d throw himself out the airlock once Alpha shift ended.

***

Reyne had just finished the weekly checks on the avian species in the menagerie when her comm beeped. Murray glanced up from his PADD at the sound but otherwise made no comment as he returned to his reports.

‘Doctor Lyall here.’

‘Doctor, you are needed on ze bridge at once.’ The young navigator’s voice was higher than she’d ever heard it, and in the background of the call there were the faints sound of people yelling and furniture being knocked about.

‘What’s going on, Mr Chekov?’ It was rare enough that she was called to the bridge, and even on those occasions it was always to do with some science mission that she needed to discuss with Commander Spock.

‘There is a blue rat on ze bridge!’ The Ensign’s voice broke on the last syllable and Reyne winced as she held the comm away from her ear.

‘Alright, alright. I’ll be there in five minutes, just stay calm Mr Chekov – I’m sure it’s more scared of you than you are of it. Lyall out.’ With a shake of her head, Reyne ended the comm and turned to face Murray, who had been listening to the whole, bizarre exchange.

‘A blue rat?’ His eyebrows had disappeared under the fall of his fringe. ‘What was the last planet we visited? Draco 6? Do you think it’s a-‘

‘More than bloody likely.’ She swept a lock of dark hair behind her ear as she grabbed a med kit and trap disk from the bench beside the door. ‘I’m going to kill whoever let it onto this ship.’

***

Reyne spotted the creature as soon as she emerged from the turbolift. She bit back a sigh of annoyance – Murray had been correct in his prediction.

‘Why the fuck is there a Lethian rat on the bridge? Please tell me there’s only one.’

At first, no one seemed inclined to answer either question, but finally Chekov piped up from his place behind the navigation console.

‘Aye, Doctor.’

‘Thank god.’

With a nod to the young Ensign, Reyne cast around for the piercing blue eyes and shit-eating grin that seemed to be at the epicentre of every disaster aboard this god-forsaken starship. A flash of command gold caught her eye as she spotted the captain crouched a few metres away from the small, blue rodent; eyes focused on his prey.

Eyes widening, she started forward but before she could issue a warning, Jim Kirk lunged, hands closing around the rat with a shout of victory.

His cheer quickly became a strangled yelp.

‘Bugger bit me!’

The Lethian rat took the opening and scurried away, causing several of the younger ensigns to jump onto their chairs as it scampered to the far side of the bridge.

In the ensuing chaos, Reyne turned just in time to see Jim raise his hand to his mouth.

‘Don’t!’ The sharpness of her outburst effectively grabbed his attention. ‘Lethian rats are venomous, and it’s worse when ingested. Wait a minute and I’ll bandage it up.’

Quickly, she pulled the trap disk from her bag and flicked the switch to prime it. The little metal circle would emit pheromones to attract the creature and humanely immobilise it once it got close enough. With a flick of her wrist, Reyne tossed the disk onto the floor in the general direction of the rodent and turned to face the captain.

Despite his injury, Jim Kirk gave her a winning smile as she stalked towards him, already pulling a bandage from her kit.

‘How did that thing come to be on the bridge, Captain?’

With skilled hands, Reyne disinfected the laceration and bound his palm with a biostrip.

‘Must’ve climbed up my shirt while I was on the away mission to Draco 6.’ The captain shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Scurried out of my sleeve.’

Reyne opened her mouth to point out the holes in his story but decided against it. She’d heard enough from Dr McCoy to know that Jim could be as stubborn as an ass when he wanted to be – which was almost all the time. Especially when it came to his physical exams.

‘You’re lucky there was only one; those things make tribbles look abstinent. Could’ve ended up with a ship-wide infestation of venomous blue rodents.’ With a shake of her head, she tied off the bandage. ‘You’ll need to go to the medbay – if it’s not treated within a couple of hours, the venom causes mild amnesia that gets worse the longer it’s left in your system. Until I catch this thing, just do what you usually do – sit in your chair and look pretty.’

It was the wrong thing to say because his eyes immediately lit up and he batted his eyelashes at her.

‘You think I’m pretty, doctor?’

The sharp beeping of the trap disk and a barrage of high pitched squealing saved her from having to reply as the rat fought against the snare.

Carefully, so she didn’t get bitten as well, Reyne picked up the snare and raised the wriggling rodent to eye level.

‘Couldn’t resist, could you? Horny wee bugger.’ The creature snapped it teeth at her. ‘Male, good. That means you won’t be popping out babies left, right and centre.’

With the press of another button, the disk injected the rodent with a small amount of sedative, and within a few seconds it had ceased its wriggling, but still eyed her with barely concealed rage. ‘Lethian rats get their name from an ancient Earthen mythology. Right, c’mon.’ She tipped her head towards the turbolift. ‘I’ll drop this wee guy off at the menagerie on the way to the medbay – I’ll need to give Dr McCoy the specifics of the venom.’

***

Five minutes later, Reyne strode into the menagerie with Jim in tow.

‘You were right, Murray!’ She gave her colleague a wide grin, depositing the sedated rat onto the exam table. ‘Look, I’ve brought you a friend.’

‘How wonderful.’ Murray adjusted his glasses and peered at the sluggish rodent. ‘And what would you like me to do with it?’

‘De-venom and examine it, I’ve got to take the captain to the medbay – he got bitten.’

‘Fine, but you owe me some of the cookies I know you have squirreled away in your office. The replicators can never seem to get them right.’ He accepted the storage box that she passed to him before glancing over her shoulder. ‘Um, Ree… You might want to book it over to medical, the captain isn’t looking too hot.’

Reyne whirled around, and it was immediately obvious was Murray was talking about; Captain Kirk had turned a sickly grey colour, and a faint sheen of sweat had broken out across his forehead. ‘Shit.’ She levered herself under his arm, guiding him away from where he had been leaning against the doorframe. ‘You must’ve had an allergic reaction to the venom. Shit.’

With a hurried farewell to Murray, she half-carried the captain out of the menagerie and towards the medbay.

***

Jim’s legs gave out just as they reached medical, and Reyne buckled under his weight as they stumbled through the medbay’s doors. ‘Dr McCoy!’

The older doctor came hurrying out of his office at the sound of her voice, and his ever-present scowl only deepened when he noticed the half-conscious captain slung over her shoulders. ‘What the devil happened to him this time? Put him down on the biobed there.’ He directed her to the nearest cubicle, and Reyne gasped in relief when Jim’s weight finally slid from her shoulders.

‘A Lethian rat got loose on the bridge, and our heroic captain decided to try and catch it with his bare hands – got bitten for his trouble.’

‘Unbelievable.’

‘It’s a slow acting neurotoxin, and I think he’s going into anaphylactic shock.’ Reyne stepped back to allow Leonard to examine Jim.

‘How long ago was he bitten?’ Leonard jabbed a hypo into the side of Jim’s neck. ‘That should stop the allergic reaction.’

‘About twenty minutes ago.’

‘Right.’ He turned to root through a drawer of vials, finally selecting one and adding it to a hypo already half-full of viscous yellow fluid. ‘This should do it.’

Jim shot the doctor a poisonous look but otherwise didn’t protest the second hypo. His colour was rapidly returning to normal and his breathing wasn’t as shallow.

‘I disinfected and bandaged the bite on the bridge, so that shouldn’t be an issue.’

‘Thanks darlin’.’ His features softened for a moment – as close to a smile as Leonard ever came, before he turned the full force of his glare onto the recovering captain. ‘Now why have you always gotta go throwing yourself into trouble without thinkin’?’

Reyne glanced over the PADD that Leonard had left on the side. Confident that the good doctor had things under control, she left the medbay with the sound of the captain getting a well-deserved dressing down from his CMO fading behind her.

[v-thinks-on]

The Adventure Continues

Part 7 of A Crazy Little Thing Called Love

First | Previous | Bonus

“May I say that I have not thoroughly enjoyed serving with humans. I find their illogic and foolish emotions a constant irritant.”

Spock stepped into the captain’s quarters.

He found Captain Kirk sitting at his desk, wrapping up a log entry: “With the energy-being gone, hostilities have ended and the ship is back under our control. We are now bringing the Klingons back to Starbase 5, and from there they can return to their Empire. In the meantime they remain on the Enterprise as our guests.” He turned off the recorder, waved Spock inside with a grin, and stood to meet him.

“Jim,” Spock said, his voice low, “I must apologize for lashing out earlier. I should have been able to resist the creature’s influence, but it was able to find and exploit my weakness.”

Jim put a hand on Spock’s shoulder and looked Spock firmly in the eye. “It exploited all of us.”

“All but one,” Spock replied, his eyes wide in admiration. “You were apparently immune.”

Jim shook his head. “I was able to resist it thanks to you, I think, but for a moment there I wanted to kill you so badly it terrified me.” There was silence as his words sunk in.

Very slowly, Spock rose one hand and placed it on Jim’s shoulder. “And for that, I am sorry. None of what I said under its influence is true. I am fascinated, not irritated by your illogic and emotions, foolish though they may sometimes be.” He hesitated. “And I have enjoyed serving on the Enterprise.”

“Good,” Jim said with a wide smile. “I’m glad we don’t irritate you too badly.”

“Hardly,” Spock replied. “I find I much prefer serving among humans to living among Vulcans.”

“We must accept the fact that Captain Kirk is no longer alive... I shall not attempt to voice the quality of respect and admiration which Captain Kirk commanded. Each of you must evaluate the loss in the privacy of your own thoughts.”

“Spock to transporter, has the captain successfully been beamed aboard? Spock to transporter, I repeat-”

Dr. McCoy hit the button to turn on the intercom with the side of his fist. “We’ve got him, and just in time too! It looks like he’s gonna be alright.”

“Good,” Spock replied. “Keep me updated on his condition-”

“Spock!” Captain Kirk exclaimed into the intercom, leaning heavily on Dr. McCoy, while Nurse Chapel hovered at his other shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m okay.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow even though none of them could see. “I was doing nothing of the sort,” he said, though a suggestion of a smile threatened to ruin the effect.

Kirk grinned back at him. “Bones is just going to run some tests to make sure I haven’t sustained any damage.”

“And maybe you’ll appreciate the drink I mixed up more than your first officer did,” Dr. McCoy cut in.

Spock ignored Dr. McCoy. “Understood. Spock out.”

Captain Kirk waved Mr. Spock into his quarters after their shift. He half-sat, half-leaned against his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He and Spock watched each other, each evaluating the other’s condition and waiting for him to make the first move.

Finally, Jim spoke gently, “What happened while I was gone?”

“You heard my official account in the log,” Spock said.

“I understand Bones pretending nothing happened, but why you?” Jim asked, perplexed. He searched Spock’s eyes for an answer.

“I believe humans would consider it an expression of goodwill,” Spock explained.

Jim nodded in understanding, but did not relent. “So what happened?”

Spock hesitated. “I am honored by your professed faith in me, however I am afraid it is not deserved.”

“Spock,” Jim exclaimed in protest, a hand on Spock's shoulder.

Spock did not meet his captain's eyes. When he spoke, his voice was so low it was barely audible, “I was emotionally compromised.” He looked up and continued a little louder, “I stayed in the fragmented space even though I knew it was killing the crew because I hoped I would I be able to find you alive. When the Tholian ship attacked, I fired without thinking of the consequences. Dr. McCoy was correct to question my judgement.” His eyebrows rose to emphasize his words.

Jim frowned. “Bones is a good friend, but I know he goes too far with you sometimes. As I said in the orders you didn’t watch” - he gave Spock a wry smile - “He can give good advice, but at the end of the day you’re in command. Staying in the fragmented space was a risky decision, but I probably would have done the same thing if our roles were reversed, and it turned out alright. I hear Chekov had a bad time of it, but at the end of the day everyone was okay, and I, for one, am glad you rescued me.”

Then he hesitated. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere so lonely before. If I was drifting out in space at least there would have been the stars, but there was nothing, just darkness. I think I would have gone mad if I didn’t suffocate first.”

“Jim,” Spock said softly, his eyes wide. He reached out a hand to comfort the captain, but didn’t know what to do with it.

Jim met Spock’s gaze and carefully took Spock’s outstretched hand in his own. “I know, I’m not alone any more, thanks to you.”

Spock felt the rush of Jim’s emotions; his relief and affection and vibrant joy that were all reflected in his bright hazel eyes. “Jim,” was all he could think to say - there was so much Spock still didn’t have the words for.

Spock felt a spark of mischief before Jim grinned and spoke, “Why don’t you stay the night? I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. “If you are suggesting-” he began.

Jim interrupted with a shake of his head. “Just that you keep me company - for emotional security.”

Spock searched Jim’s expression as though appraising it. He did not reach deeper into Jim’s mind, even though he wondered what the captain was thinking. “Very well,” he said at last with a nod.

Spock left to gather his belongings, and soon returned to find the captain already in bed, shirtless, of course, reading the latest in the endless stream of reports that required his attention and approval. He glanced up as soon as the door slid open and smiled up at Spock, whose eyebrows rose at the sight of the captain still working.

“Just keeping occupied while I waited.” Jim put the reports aside. “I know, I need rest, doctor’s orders.”

“Dr. McCoy is quite right on that account,” Spock replied, not without some skepticism.

“I’m not the only one who’s had a stressful day,” Jim pointed out.

Spock nodded in acknowledgement and went to the bathroom to change. The ship was not so warm that even a young Vulcan could comfortably sleep in minimal clothing as humans did. It was probably for the best; brief contact was one thing, but spending the entire night with their minds touching would be another entirely - and humans dreamed.

Spock emerged from the bathroom and Jim watched him intently with an open smile as he made his way over to the bed. Jim shifted over a couple of inches to make room for Spock. He waited patiently as Spock hesitated before finally joining him under the covers. Spock lay flat on his back and Jim molded himself around him.

“Thank you,” Jim whispered as the lights faded to one percent. Spock could feel the human’s warm breath against his cheek.

“I might have seriously injured you, Captain, even killed you. They have evoked such great hatred in me, I cannot allow it to go further. I must master it. I must control…” Spock gripped a ceramic goblet so tightly it crumbled into rubble.

Captain Kirk arrived on the bridge with Alexander - the man they had rescued from the Platonians - concluding their tour of the ship.

“Alexander,” the captain said, once his guest had a chance to look around, marveling at their very alien technology, “I have some business to attend to” - he glanced up at Mr. Spock, dutifully bent over his viewscreen at his station - “But you’ll be left in Scotty’s very capable hands.”

Mr. Scott stepped over to them. “Aye, sir.”

“Alexander is to be treated as an honored guest. Without him, we might very well still be at the mercy of the Platonians.” The captain turned to Spock. “Mr. Spock, a word?”

Spock stood up straight and gave the captain a sharp nod. Kirk waved him off the bridge and onto the turbo lift.

“Detect anything interesting?” Kirk asked as they tread the familiar path back to the captain’s quarters.

“No,” Spock replied, “Just routine observations.”

Kirk grinned at him.

They said little more until they were behind closed doors. They stopped in the middle of Jim’s room, standing hardly a foot apart. Before either could speak, Jim extended a hand to Spock, his first two fingers out. Spock mirrored the gestured and brushed Jim’s fingers with his own, letting the captain’s emotions wash over him.

“You are unharmed?” Spock asked, his voice low.

Jim nodded. “What about you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so angry.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. His eyes lingered on the floor and he seemed to war within himself. At last, he looked up and met Jim’s eyes. With some difficulty, he said, “I could have killed you.”

“They could have killed either of us,” Jim insisted. He put a hand on Spock’s shoulder.

Spock hesitated. “I know I was not acting under my own power, but I still feel the associated guilt - and anger.”

Jim nodded in understanding, unable to keep himself from smiling a little. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not very logical, but it is human.”

Spock inclined his head again. “It appears I am becoming increasingly human, for better or for ill.”

Jim’s smile spread across his face and shone in his eyes. “You’ve always been human, and it doesn’t make you any less vulcan.”

Spock’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “The population of Vulcan would be inclined to disagree.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing.” Jim put both his hands on Spock’s upper arms. “Not that I’m too disappointed - their loss is my gain, after all. If you hadn’t left Vulcan, I wouldn’t have the best man in the fleet.” Jim thought he saw Spock’s cheeks turn a little greener than usual.

“At times I find that you are prone to exaggeration, Captain,” Spock attempted to protest, but the feeling resonating in his voice gave him away.

“Am I?” Jim challenged. He scrunched his forehead and shifted his eyebrows in a poor imitation his first officer.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him in response.

“Why don’t you see for yourself.” One of Jim’s hands wandered down Spock’s arm, to stop at his wrist, just before his sleeve gave way to skin.

Jim gave Spock a questioning glance, and Spock’s eyes widened a little, inviting him to go ahead. So, Jim took Spock’s hand in his and raised it toward his face, his intention clear. Spock closed the distance, resting his warm fingers on Jim’s psy points. Their minds came together without any need for the traditional litany and they were each bathed in the other’s presence.

“A very old and lonely man. And a young and lonely man. We put on a pretty poor show, didn't we?”

Spock pressed his fingers to the captain’s temple and splayed them out along the side of his face. “Forget,” he murmured.

Their minds crashed together without another thought and Spock was overcome by a wave of guilt and grief: I’m sorry, I should have known better. I killed her. It’s my fault. I ignored your warning. I was so angry, so jealous, so desperate. I was everything he said I was; selfish, brutal, savage, cruel. I was no better than he was. All I wanted was for her to be free. I didn’t know. I pushed too hard. It’s my fault. I tried to make her love me and it killed her. I killed her. She’s dead. I killed her. She’s dead because I loved her.

The thoughts of love and death cycled on and on in an endless vortex, dragging Spock deeper and deeper with them.

His mind cried out and answered with anguish of his own. He could not bear to see his captain, to see Jim in such agony, and his own helplessness threatened to consume him, as though Jim was dying on a distant planet and he was stuck on the Enterprise, light years away. He knew the misery of love though Dr. McCoy had so easily dismissed the possibility.

“Jim,” he heard himself croak.

Like a strike of lightning, the sound seemed to illuminate Jim’s mind for an instant. Spock grabbed onto the sudden clarity with all his might. He knew what he needed to do. He quieted his emotions as he had done all his life and answered the onslaught of Jim’s anguish with logic.

What’s done is done. It cannot be helped. It is not logical to linger-

Jim’s mind revolted against Spock’s cold logic with powerful emotion that threatened to throw Spock out of the meld by sheer force of will. Jim’s very identity seemed to war against Spock’s mind and he recoiled at the rejection, but he did not give up.

He merely needed to try something different. If not logic, then emotion, as ill versed as he was in its ways.

Confident reassurance came easiest, to quiet Jim’s raging mind. The ship was at peace. Their crew was safe. They were free to explore the galaxy.

The torrent of emotion subsided, but the undercurrent of guilt and self-loathing remained, threatening to pull Spock into the heart of the storm all the same.

So, he answered with admiration, with every impossible victory and human virtue the captain had. Rayna’s death was not your fault. You could not have known. It was easy for someone like Jim, to whom human emotion came so naturally, to forget that it would be difficult for an android unaccustomed to such emotion to handle the powerful force of love.

Love. Spock slowly lowered his mental shields to allow just a portion of all the overwhelming emotion he felt for the captain. Everything illogical and irrational he did and felt, but could not bring himself to regret.

You are not alone.

Spock slowly pulled out of the meld and drew his hand away from Jim’s face.

Jim’s bright hazel eyes met his, and Jim threw his arms around Spock’s torso. Jim buried his face in Spock shoulder and squeezed Spock against him.

Spock remained still as though frozen, uncertain how to respond, but unwilling to pull away. He felt Jim’s heart beating fast in his chest and could hear his unsteady breath.

“Thank you, Spock,” Jim said at last. He leaned away just enough to look Spock firmly in the eye. “You’re right, I’m not alone, and nor are you.”

[spockfallsinlove]

Episode Coda for “The Man Trap.”

Ao3.

Spock hesitates before stepping close enough to the door to trigger it opening. His feet had taken him to sickbay, where he knows undoubtedly Dr. McCoy currently resides, on almost a whim. His brain hasn’t quite caught up yet. Hands clasped firmly behind his back, he continues to stare at the grey granules of the door, faltering.

He knows that this borders on unprofessionalism; emotionalism. But in his mind’s eye he sees the captain: sitting in a chair, immobilized, with the creature’s suctioned hand on his face, normally vibrant eyes staring ahead unseeingly, devoid of life…

It’s a powerful enough image to jolt his body into action, mind made up, emotions firmly pushed back into their rightful place.

The doctor looks up as the swish of the door announces Spock’s entrance. McCoy is bent over a desk, placing his writing utensil down onto a thick folder of paper. “Well, Spock,” he says slowly, “didn’t expect you to be here at this hour. What can I do you for?”

Spock stands in front of the doctor at parade rest, feet planted. “I wished to discuss something with you, doctor.”

“And it couldn’t wait until a more logical time of the morning?”

“Since you are, currently, working both the night and day shift of sickbay and are consequently here at early hours, I saw no reason that you would be disturbed by my request.”

McCoy seems to bite back a glare with an impatient smile. “Why don’t you tell me what you need, Spock, so I can get back to my work.”

“Very well.” There’s a voice nagging in the back of Spock’s mind, one that has a familiar Vulcan somber tone. It says to let it go, to leave. He ignores it and pushes forward. “I want to discuss the way you handled yourself in your quarters; when that creature attacked the captain.”

McCoy’s complexion darkens. “The way I ‘handled’ myself?” he repeats.

“Yes. The emotionalism you displayed was unprofessional and not to mention, dangerous.”

Advancing forward a step, McCoy’s voice goes low and quiet as he demands, “Explain what in the hell you mean, Mr. Spock.”

Spock refuses to be deterred. “The captain was in mortal danger, and still you stood by and hesitated for long moments while the creature began to kill him. A starship cannot have a crewmember lets his or her own weaknesses get the better of them in a dire situation. Especially not where the captain is concerned. Therefore, I suggest—”

“All right now listen, you green-blooded hooligan,” McCoy cuts in, jabbing a finger in Spock’s face. “I’ve kept my mouth shut up till now. Jim keeps ranting about how great you are—so I’ve kept my thoughts to myself. But now you’ve gone just too far.” He steps forward and Spock sees the skin under McCoy’s left eye twitch. “My weaknesses? You mean compassion for another life? You think I’m some cold-blooded killer that can pick up a phaser and kill a creature, just like that?”

“When the captain’s life is in danger, yes.”

“I wouldn’t have let Jim die! You could stand to learn a little bit about humans, Spock. It’s natural to have hesitation before taking drastic and violent action against something.” McCoy narrows his eyes. “Or does that not compute in that perfect, cold and unemotional brain of yours?”

Spock raises an eyebrow. That callous comment felt uncalled for; but he doesn’t acknowledge it aloud.

“That creature was the last of its kind,” McCoy continues, “and was lonely. Desperate and lonely. Do you even know what that feels like?”

Spock thins his lips, retorting, “Loneliness is an emotion.”

McCoy to bursts out a sigh. “Of course. You wouldn’t get it, so why do I try to explain it.”

“Doctor.” Spock’s voice has an edge to it that he unsuccessfully tries to suppress. “The subject of emotions and whether I feel them is As someone who should have the captain and crew’s best interest in mind, you ought to acknowledge that your actions could have resulted in a very fatal end for the captain.”

“Whaddaya want me to do, Spock, rip my own heart out so I never feel anything again?”

Spock impatiently grips the edge of the desk beside him. “Doctor—”

“Or maybe you want everyone to be as emotionless and heartless as you, and not even think about the value of a creature’s life!”

“Enough!” Spock’s fist causes the desk to creak as it bends, warped, from his grip at the same time that his voice raises. It seems to echo in the empty sickbay as McCoy stares at him, astounded.

“I find this conversation circular and unfruitful,” Spock says through barely unclenched teeth. “I just wanted to express my worries at the past situation, and advise you not to do it again.”

McCoy crosses his arms against his chest, staring at him challengingly. “Or you’ll do what?”

Spock’s hands grip themselves enough to bruise as he places them against the small of his back. “I assure you that if you endanger Captain Kirk’s life again in any way, I will see you that you are off the Enterprise.”

McCoy replies, almost sneering, “And, Mr. Spock, if you endanger Captain Kirk’s life with your unemotional behavior, I’ll see that you are kicked off of this damn ship.”

Spock allows his eyebrow to twitch minutely before spinning on his heel to exit. The door barely gets its chance to open before he storms out of sickbay. He can hear McCoy’s curses while Spock walks quickly down the hallway in the direction of the lift.

During the ride to the level of his quarters, he keeps his mind carefully blank. Meditation will solve what he feels; cool his thoughts. He never should have acted out in emotionalism to see McCoy in the first place. It was something about the way that the Captain’s life teetered at the edge, and Spock could do nothing about it from his position. That he was useless to help his Captain, his—

Spock’s fists clench against the thought. Meditation. It will solve this.

He is nearly to the door of his quarters when he hears his name.

“Mr. Spock, do you have a moment?”

Spock takes a breath to steady himself, then turns to face the concerned captain. “Of course, sir.”

Captain Kirk takes a breath, opening his mouth but pausing, as if not sure where to begin. “I just had a comm from Bones. He was pretty upset.”

“I see.”

“Amidst all the swear words, I heard your name quite a few times.”

“Indeed?” Spock asks cooly.

Kirk slowly nods. “Something about… professional harassment?” His eyes search Spock’s impassive gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to know what he’s talking about, do you, Spock?”

Straightening, Spock fixates on a point past the Captain’s eye level. “I merely relegated my concerns to the doctor of his emotional display this evening, that put many people in potential danger.”

“Ah.” Kirk stares at the ground, chewing his lip in thought. When he looks up at Spock again, his eyes are disarmingly somber. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Spock. Bones is cut up as it is about the whole situation. And yes, I know you don’t agree with human emotionalism—but Bones is a good man. You can’t fault him for a faltering moment, on his part.”

Spock, thoroughly disagreeing, nods slowly. “Yes, Captain.”

Kirk smiles gently. “I know you don’t believe me. But perhaps one day you’ll understand, being half human yourself.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes to the ceiling at the comment, Spock nods again.

Kirk reaches out and claps him on the shoulder. “Well, it’s been a long day,” he says. “Time to get some sleep.” He turns on his heel, begins to walk toward his own quarters that are directly next to Spock’s.

The word is out of Spock’s mouth before he can stop it. “Captain…”

Kirk turns; green eyes catching the artificial light of the hallway. “Yes, Mr. Spock?”

For a moment, Spock wonders how it would feel: to not only acknowledge his relief at the fact that Jim is now alive, but to also tell his captain that he felt that way at all. To succumb to this impulse to act as though Jim were a friend in a human way; it would be thoroughly un-Vulcan. And yet, for a moment, Spock couldn’t care less about what is Vulcan or not.

But it’s only for a moment. Straightening his spine and clasping his hands behind his back, Spock assumes a professional parade rest. “It is nothing, Captain. I will report to you on the Alpha shift at 0600 hours.”

Captain Kirk pauses, looking at him strangely. A smile dances on his lips. “Very well. Goodnight, Mr. Spock.”

Spock finds, inexplicably, that his meditation is tumultuous that night.

[lovely people tagged under the cut. let me know if you want to be added or removed.]

@ialwayscomewhenyoucall @boldlygoingnovvhere @logic-is-a-little-tweeting-bird @sehunada-e-starkada @mer-yan @ahsokastars @staarmunch @prismakakkerra @lookthatway @ryeisenberg @thylaforever @soyraktajino @snabulous @yourea--stubborn--man @heyndrix @jedimagneto @owyheewinds @somesuchnonsense @therainbowshideout @cuteasafrog @galaxystiel @its0nlyanorthernsong @wintergreen556 @sunshine-captain @somesuchnonsense @therainbowshideout @cuteasafrog @musicmandy1991 @picturelyuniverse

[randomnessunicorn-imagine]

🌠 STAR TREK- FANFICTION 🌠

This is my first Star Trek fanfiction and I truly wanted to write something about it even if it’s nothing special but I could not resist! I'm trying to emulate the best I can the style of the classic episodes of Star Trek. Some elements of this fanfiction have been invented by me. This story will be composed by some chapters, it’s better this way. I accept every kind of advice as long as they are expressed with politness. I hope you can appreciate it and sorry if you’ll find some mistakes, it can happen, and the summer heat does not help me at all to think properly, I’m melting. By the way, good reading!

Don’t forget to tell me your opinion about and leave a like or share if you liked it, it would make the writer very happy.

FANDOM: Star Trek: The Original Series

PROMPT: The Collector [ by @badthingshappenbingo ]

WORDS: 1888

✰ THE COLLECTOR: first chapter ✰

Stardate: 41254.7.

 Captain's log: My faithful crew and I are traveling to a planet called Xenox Z. It will soon become part of the federation. We have been instructed to accompany their State Councillor to have some diplomatic discussion about their admission in the United Federation of Planets and to attend the ceremony. Our destination will be reached in ten terrestrial hours.

 The planet of Xenox Z was in an unexplored area of the galaxy and therefore, its entry into the federation would have allowed the exploration of new areas and the creation of new space colonies. This travel was extremely important for the achievement of an intergalactic peace between every living creature of this vast universe.

The legendary Enterprise was following the route to the planet Xenox Z, crossing corners of the galaxy that were still waiting to be explored but, despite the immense beauty of the stars and the infinite space, something disturbed the young soul of the Captain Kirk who was questioning himself about the strange message sent to him by the Starfleet.

This message informed the captain about the strange disappearances that were taking place in the galaxy. It was assumed that they were real kidnappings and someone was plotting against the Federation. Heads of state, generals and scientists disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Nothing was left of them, not even a trace. As if they had disappeared in cosmic space or sucked into a black hole.

Captain Kirk did not want to make his crew worried with his anxieties and he showed the usual grit and bravado that made of him the brave captain of today. This was not his responsibility and neither his mission since some experts have been assigned for this task by the Starfleet but the Captain could not ignore the danger of this situation.

"Mr. Chekov, have you calculated the route?" The captain asked, sitting on his throne as he watched the screen showing the immense spatial vault. A show that the captain would never tire of observing and that always filled his soul with pride.

"Route already calculated, Captain. We are traveling to the Xenoxian space station.” The young Chekov answered professionally without taking his eyes off his machinery.

The current task of the Enterprise was to withdraw the State Councillor of the planet Xenox Z, who would have been the mediator of the communication between the human beings and the Xenonians because the language of this people was unknown to men. The State Councillor proved to be very interested and open to this work and very curious about the human culture as well.

A few minutes passed from the order of the Captain and everything seemed to proceed according to the calculations.

Mr. Spock was silent and focused on his work as usual, Mr. Chekov and his colleague Sulu were driving the ship and then Uhura received new messages from the Starfleet about their task.

"Mister Captain, a message from the Starfleet. They warn us that the Xenonian Councillor has arrived at the meeting place and is ready to be teleported.” Uhura notified the Captain.

"Tell them that we are ready to welcome our guest." The captain said firmly and then he stood up his chair, making his way with Mr. Spock, Dr. Bones and Mr. Scott to the transporter room.

Everything proceeded according to plan and yet, the thought of those poor men disappeared in enigmatic circumstances continued to torment the captain’s mind because he felt powerless in view of this cruelty.

All the missing men were important and successful elements of the federation, indispensable for this galaxy, but they were taken away by an unknown entity, perhaps a ravenous alien, a criminal who ran free to the galaxy. Whoever they were, they had to be stopped.

The doctor, who knew Jim more than anyone else, noticed the discomfort in his eyes. He was able to understand when his friend was emotionally hurt and therefore could not help but ask him what happened to make him so disquiet.

"Are you alright, Jim?" Bones asked before entering into the transporter room.

The captain turned, forgetting his worries because he, the great captain Kirk, could not be seen vulnerable in front of his men. He answered to him with a confident smile.

"I'm fine, Bones. Your profession makes you see disease everywhere, but thank you for your interest.” Jim said ironically, as he watched the transporter platform and then he looked at Scott, giving him the order to activate the teleporter.

"Energy, Mr. Scott." The captain ordered.

"Yes, sir." And Scott operated by actionizing the usual machine to make the transporter work.

From the beam of light of the transporter came out an humanoid alien with a bluish skin, a bald head and a blue goatee adorned his chin. They were rather short, and they wore a long grey tunic with long sleeves that covered their hands.

"Howdy, Terrestrial. I give you my greetings from the planet Xenox Z. I am the Councillor of Xenox.” Said the alien showing a bow. They appeared polite and friendly and they tried to emulate the human’s tradition. It seemed they appreciated the human race and so they tried to use the human’s vocabulary to impress their future allies.  

Then the captain approached the guest, followed by his subordinates.

“Welcome to the Enterprise. We’re glad you and your people have decided to be part of the Federation and we’ll do our best to make your trip comfortable.” Said the Captain in his usual proud tone of voice and then he turned toward his men, presenting them, “Let me introduce you to my first officer, Mr. Spock, my chief medical Leonard McCoy and the head engineer, Mr. Scott.” Everyone of them nodded as they were called by the Captain.

“I’m sure it’ll be a great journey. Hope you don’t mind if I take a look around. I find your starship extremely mesmerising. I’m always been interested in your culture, you are such an extravagant race.” commented the Councillor and the Captain smiled seeing how this alien looked more like a human than a Xenoxian. Evidently, they were trying to adapt themselves to this new cultural environment and actually, the Councillor has been the one to recommend to his own sovereign to take part of the United Federation of Planets.

“I’m glad for the interest you’ve got for our culture. Mr. Scott, why don’t you accompany our curious guest to a tour across the Enterprise before showing them their accommodation?” proposed the Captain and the alien seemed agreed with this idea.

“I’d be honoured, Captain.” They nodded and then they followed Scott to explore the mythic Enterprise.

The preoccupations that were consuming the Captain mind have been quell for some time and it seemed everything was going well.

Jim and Mr. Spock came back to the bridge, while the Doctor returned to his infirmary. Bones did not forget how the Captain looked like before the meeting with the Councillor, he understood there was something Jim was hiding but, since the physical condition of the Captain seemed perfect and he did not show signs of sorrow anymore, the doctor had no reason to worry. The captain was able to take care of himself better than anybody else in this vast ship.

This mission was important and the Captain took his duties very seriously. It was normal he wanted to make a good impression to his new guest and show how the human race was worthy and determinate to accomplish its responsibilities. Jim was the most brilliant human the doctor knew and so he got worried a bit much sometimes.

On the screen of the bridge appeared an unknown planet, one of the many unexplored planets that constituted this part of the universe. Nothing seemed to be a source of concern, for now.

"Captain. The engines have suddenly stopped working but no failure is reported in the system.” Chekov warned the Captain about the unexpected inconvenience happened.

"We are entering in the orbit of that planet, it seems, we are attracted to it, Mister." Sulu said this time.

"Bridge to Scott. Have you verified some failure in the engines? "Asked the Captain to Scott, calling him from the intercom.

"The engines do not seem damaged. They should work very well.” Scott explained, perplexed.

"Then find out what's wrong, warn me about the situation." The Captain ordered and then he closed the call.

"The atmosphere of this planet is out of the norm, Captain. Its gravity is attracting us to the core. It's like someone trying to force us to stay into its orbit.” Spock explained, calm and attentive as usual. Not even the slightest preoccupation could be perceived in him, even the Captain appeared controlled but his feelings were mixed with worries, the same worry he thought he had forgotten.

"What kind of planet is this?" Jim asked.

"The computer defines it as a class-K planet, arid and desert, but its characteristics are abnormal compared to the other known planets of the same class. No form of life seems to inhabit the surface of the planet. The computer only reveals an unidentified source of energy.” Mr. Spock said controlling the data in the computer.

"What kind of energy?" The captain asked, looking at Mr. Spock with a stern look.

"The energy of a living being, Captain." Spock nodded, moving close to Jim, admiring the planet being shown on the large computer monitor.

"So we're stuck here until Mr. Scott finds out a way to reactivate the engines?" The Captain asked, trying to hide his irritation. Mr. Spoke just nodded, because it seemed the only solution now: to wait even if this phenomena was very strange and that planet seemed hiding a secret.

It could be hypnotized that someone on that planet was interested in meeting the crewmembers, even if they did not know the source of that energy so the captain could not ignore the current problematic.

Maybe the only thing they could do now was exploring the surface of that planet and doing some research to find the cause of this block and to locate the entity hidden behind that energy, if it could be a threaten for the Enterprise, they had to understand and be ready to every emergency.

"Captain, someone is trying to communicate with us from the planet but the frequency seems to be disturbed. It is impossible to contact the sender.” Uhura warned the captain.

"That planet must not be completely uninhabited if they are sending us signals. Do you have any theories, Mr. Spock?” Jim asked to the efficient Spock.

"Theories, Captain? This planet possess some infrequent characteristics for a common class-K planet As if someone had rigged with the nature law of the planet.” Spock explained calmly and afterwards the Captain ordered to Spock to follow him.

"Prepare a reconnaissance team! You, Mr. Spock, and the doctor Mccoy will come with me. The entity that sent that message is located to that planet and, surely, they will know how to release the Enterprise from this block” The captain explained the plan and then he went with his men in the transporter room.

The entire group prepared itself to be teleported to the mysterious planet, aware of the unknown dangers they would find there.

 [ To be continued … ]

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

Clans: Chapter 1

Relationships: Mckirk

Characters: Jim Kirk, Leonard “bones” Mccoy, Sulu, Uhora, Spock, Christopher Pike, maybe more.

warning: there will be smut.

A/N: so this is my newest fic, and im super excited about it! Its sort of a mix of lore from Supernatural, cuz i love that show, crossed with the Star Trek characters. Basically Jim goes out on a hunting trip and gets himself into more then he can handle all too quickly. its going to be so much fun! So if you want give it a read and let me know what you think!! i would also love to give a super huge thank-you to @medicatemedrmccoy since this story was inspired by her and her amazing writing! BTW if y’all havent read her new “Bite Me” fic, you should, cuz y’all are missing out! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter one:

    Central Park. Dark, quiet, secluded, it was Jim's favourite place to hunt. At night he would lay in wait, taking cover in the even darker shadows of the trees, the thick coverage of the bushes, and stalk his pray in the night.     This night started no different then any other. As Jim silently glided across the damp grass, not a sound under his feet, he followed a young couple thorough the park. They couldn’t have been any older then twenty-five, the dark haired girl clinging tightly to her blond boyfriend as they laughed their way down the trail. Then Jim saw him, the haggard drunk stumbling through the park, emerging from the trees across from him.

    The man stumbled across the grass, cutting in front of the couple who had narrowly escaped an early death that night as Jim set his sights on a new prize. The young couple sidestepped the drunk and hurried out of the park, no longer in sight, but Jim's eyes remained on the plump man now so close to him. “Drunk,” he thought to himself, “always did taste sweeter.”

    He scanned the area with one quick glance, making sure it was just him and his prey left in the park, and slowly began emerging from his hiding place in the bushes. He could smell the man, he could smell the sickly sweet dripping off of him from the booze, and he couldn’t wait to get that taste in his mouth, it was all he could focus on. Then his moment came, the man turned his back to Jim, completely unsuspecting as Jim hunched readying to strike.     Before he could lunge and take what he so desperately wanted he was wrapped in several pairs of arms and a mask thrown over his face. He didn’t panic and calmly tried to remove himself from the arms encircling him, but found that for the first time in his existence his strength was useless, as every time he tried to move their hold tightened and his strength was failing him. Now he was beginning to panic, what creature had strength measurable to his, able to keep him easily at bay? Nothing he had ever encountered before.

    With no thoughts on what to do, he was dragged backwards and out of the park and roughly thrown into a car. They drove for what Jim felt was ages while they held him down with ease in the back seat, still masked. When they finally stopped and pulled him from the car he could smell the water, he could smell the rusting decay of old boats, the metallic tang of gutted fish, and before he knew what was happening he was thrown into a boat and being taken away from land.     Eventually they stopped, the boat docked, and Jim was once again being manhandled. He heard doors creaking open and when they passed through them Jim's senses went off the charts. Every smell was new, every corner they turned seemed to provide a new scent, and he was finding it extremely difficult to manage to even walk straight. But amongst all the smells that this place was holding around him, there was one scent in particular that Jim found himself completely attaching to. This one scent that he wanted more of, and more, it was almost addicting. In the back of his mind he registered another set of doors opening and he was pushed through, then forced to the ground and made to sit on his knees. The addicting scent had left Jim's nose, leaving him slightly impatient for more.

    His mask was finally ripped from his face and Jim found himself surrounded by men, ordinary men as far as he could tell, but their smell. It was something Jim had never come across, something that had him both confused and scared, and the strength they held was enough to drop his stomach to his knees. No man had ever been able to restrain him at all, let alone as easily as these ones had.

    The panic was starting to grow wild in his chest as he turned his head in all directions at the men surrounding him. While he found himself unmasked and unbound he took his chance to lunge at the closest man to him, letting out a gut wrenching snarl as he did, only to be effortlessly pushed back to his knees.

    “Wait here,” the gravelly voice of the man before him spoke, “our Lordship wishes to speak with you.”

    “Lordship…” he whispered to himself, then watched the man leave.

    Jim remained on his knees in the room, still surrounded by the odd smelling men. He wanted so bad to just bolt, use his speed and book it out of this place, but the strength in these men was something he found himself not wanting to mess with. If what he had seen already was as effortless as it seemed, he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out what they were capable of if they actually tried.     Finally the double doors opened again and Jim turned slightly back to see who was coming in this time. It was a tall man, dark hair, slightly tanned skin. He entered the room flanked by two more guys, one the man from before, and the second someone new. Jim noticed that he was wearing clothes that seemed a little old fashioned for modern day New York. Compared to Jim's ripped blue jeans and worn leather jacket, this guy’s dark suit pants and black puffed out top and tie made Jim look like he was homeless.     The very dapper man sauntered past Jim and sat in front of him in the chair that had been placed there by one of the men. Jim wanted to rip him open, he wanted to rip every person in this place open, no one ever dared touch him and this had already gone too far. He shifted, getting closer to the man with a snarl, but when he inhaled every muscle in Jim's body froze. That smell, it was the exact smell in the hallway that had Jim's senses in all kinds of trouble. It must be this man, he was the one who smelled so intoxicating to Jim, so much so that he had to hold his breath while in the mans presence.

    The man tilted his head at Jim's now frozen form, giving him a quick once over before crossing his legs and saying, “My men tell me you're having a hard time sitting still.”

    Jim quickly regained his composure and brought back his spiteful manor, though still held his breath, as he spat back, “Hard to comply when you’ve been kidnapped and held against your will.”

    “Don’t worry,” the man folded his hands in his lap, “we will set you free, I just wanted to talk.”

    Jim said nothing, just stared at the man, hard and cold before the man spoke again. “You’re a vampire, correct?”

    Jim merely flashed his fangs, wishing that he could sink his teeth into someone right now.

    The man chuckled, “Good, and in that case I have a request to ask of you.”

    “First you can tell me what you are!” Jim took one long smell of the room, the mans scent still taking hold of him as he wavered on his knees, trying to gather himself, “You can’t be human, you don’t smell human, in fact… I’ve never smelled anything like you before.”

    The man simply smiled, a dashing and effortless smile that had an almost instant effect on Jim. First his scent and now this. He then leaned forwards slightly and whispered, “We are werewolves.”

    “You’re… wolves?” Jim all but whispered, “That’s impossible, wolves have been extinct for centuries!”     “And yet here I sit,” he sat back with a smirk.     “Then why, all this time, have I been told otherwise?!”     The man took a breath before answering, ignoring Jim's seething glare, “Because as far as you or any other supernatural being is concerned we are extinct, wiped out. But on the contrary, we just made it seem that way. We have been here, on this island, thriving for centuries unnoticed by any other family or clan. It was the best way to keep our family safe after our quarrels with the shifters in the 1800’s”

    “So you’ve been here all these years and never left the island?” the man nodded and Jim scoffed, “Well that explains your dumb ass clothes.”

    One of the men to Jim's left took a step towards him and Jim immediately went on the defense, ready to attack. But the man merely held up a hand and the wolf backed off immediately.     The man looked back to Jim as he continued, “I personally have never left the island, but some of the other werewolves have. The only time we leave the island is to obtain food and nothing more, that is until last week when our cover became compromised.”

    “How?”

    The man ignored Jim yet again, leaning fully back in his chair and resting a hand on his chin, “Go now, return to your clan and tell your blood father I wish to speak with him, tomorrow night. My men will leave you unmasked this time so you will know your way back to my house. Inform him that this is a civil meeting, I only wish to discuss some matters that have recently arisen and see if we can come to an arrangement that will suit both of our families.”     “What matters?” Jim looked around the room confused, “What are you talking about?!     The man waved his hand at the wolves again and this time two came to grab each of Jim's arms, hoisting him off the ground and to his feet. The man spoke to the two men now holding Jim, “Take him back to the docks and let him go, and hopefully,” he shifted his eyes to make contact with Jim’s, “I will see you tomorrow.”

    Before Jim could say anything else he was being dragged, yet again, through the hallways of the house. He didn’t even bother to struggle this time, it was clearly useless. Instead he thought about everything that had happened to him that night. Wolves, actual wolves had kidnapped him, creatures he had been told, since his turning, were extinct. As far as Jim knew his family was the only supernatural clan in New York, and this opened up a whole new playing field, one in which he wasn’t sure where he stood and that scared him. For the first time in his vampire life he was actually scared.

    Quicker then his first time around Jim found himself at the docks. The wolves stopped their boat and tied off, two of them stepping onto the docks then turning back to Jim. “You’re free to go,” one of them said, and faster then they could blink an eye Jim was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: ok, so just a short little intro...what does everyone think? more action to come i promise lol and if anyone wants to be tagged for future updates just let me know :)

Tags: @bi-e-ne

and @medicatemedrmccoy i already tagged you at the top of this one, but i didn’t know if you wanted to be tagged for the rest, so if not just let me know ;P

[psicygni]

30, Submersion in cool water, Bones

“I’m gonna shower,” McCoy says and rolls up to sitting.  The sheet rumples at his waist and provides Spock with a study in contrast between white cotton and the length of his tanned and freckled back.

“Do you always announce your intentions for the morning?” Spock asks.

“You’re mouthy when you’re naked.”

“It is a simple inquiry.”

“Simple,” McCoy repeats in a mutter.  Spock does not bother to pretend he is not watching the play of muscles in McCoy’s thighs as he walks to the bathroom.  “I was going to invite you to join in, but now I’m thinking better of it.”

“Are you planning to declare your aim of eating breakfast and then beginning your scheduled shift?” Spock calls after him but is either ignored or unheard over the rush of water McCoy turns on.

“It is not warm,” Spock says when he has disentangled himself from the bedding and come to stand before the shower stall.  There is no fog clouding the glass, nor clinging to the mirror.

“A good wake-up,” McCoy says.  Rivulets run over the ridge his collarbone to the slope of his pectorals, and down the flat line of his stomach to-

“Perhaps you should consider sleeping more.”

“Didn’t hear an argument from you last night,” McCoy says.

“Showers are supposed to be a pleasant temperature,” Spock says, but is disregarded as McCoy squirts an unnecessary amount of shampoo into his palm.

Spock will shower in his own quarters under the sonics.  He has neither a clean uniform here, nor a toothbrush, and the morning’s… prevarication renders him not precisely late for his duties before his own shift begins, but not early either.

Water streams down McCoy’s raised arms as he rinses his hair, tiny rivulets finding the hollows and dips of muscle.  Spock leans back against the sinks allows himself another moment to contemplate McCoy’s clearly unsound reasoning.

…

“It’s tradition,” Sulu says, which Spock highly doubts.

“C’mon, it’s fun,” Jim says and skims his shirt over his head.

“It’s a thing that we do,” Nyota says and shrugs, at least apparently aware of the inanity of their plan, even if she clearly is collaborating.

“It is illogical,” Spock says but what he truly means is insane.

“Good for the nervous system,” McCoy says.  His breath puffs white in front of his face.

“You are a doctor,” Spock says.  “Surely you are not intending to jump into a nearly frozen lake on a planet with permanent winter, where the mean temperature is so grossly below what is bearable for humans, let alone sustainable for-“

“-Come with us,” McCoy says and steps out of his boots.  “We’re just dipping in there for a few seconds.”

“There is snow,” Spock says and this should be clear.  Apparent.  Obvious, as it is currently falling from the sky, borne in on a frigid wind.  “And ice.  And furthermore-“

“-Good God it’s cold,” McCoy says and shucks his pants off.

“Precisely,” Spock says, but it does little - nothing - to dissuade the group of them as they sprint for the shoreline.

Humans, Spock thinks.

…

“If you’re going to just sit there, grab me another one,” McCoy says from the edge of the hot tub he has arranged himself against and Spock frowns when he shakes his beer bottle towards him.

“Drinking alcohol while submerged in heated water leads to dehydration which in turn leads to-”

“-Oh, quit yapping and get in, would you?”  Water seeps through Spock’s pants to his thigh when McCoy lays a wet hand on his leg.  “And if the water’s so warm that I’ll-”

“-It is not warm,” Spock says.  McCoy squeezes his leg.  Jim tips his face up out of the steam that rises around them and mutters Gross.

Drops of water roll down from McCoy hairline, a slow meander down his neck.  Later, Spock will lick at that same trace of tendon and muscle that slopes to his shoulder and taste the faint bite of chlorine.

“When you are suffering the effects of this ill advised evening tomorrow morning, I will remind you of this moment.”

“You two are cute,” Jim says.  McCoy huffs out of a snort of a laugh.  Spock stands to retrieve the requested beer.  His leg is still wet.

…

The warmth of the sun is agreeable.  Even the beach is enjoyable, with its roll of waves, nearly cloudless sky, and crab-like creatures that skitter in the foam of the surf.

What is not to Spock’s liking, however, is being dripped on.

“The water’s nice,” McCoy says again, and again, Spock refuses to allow himself to be levered up by the grip on his wrist.

“Highly doubtful.”

“You’re burning up sitting here.”

“A gross exaggeration.”

“There’s nothing to do if you’re not going to come swimming.”

“Untrue,” Spock says for it discounts the rather gratifying experience of watching McCoy swim.  “My shirt is now wet.”

McCoy flicks even more water onto him with whisk of his fingers.  Spock grabs his hand.

“Sit with me,” he says.

McCoy sighs, an exaggerated blow of air.  “Fine.”

Sand coats McCoy’s feet and ankles, and drops of water coat the rest of him, dripping down to where the elastic of his swimsuit rests low on his hips.  When Spock leans over, the corner of McCoy’s mouth tastes of the ocean and the tang of sunscreen.

“You’re boring as all hell,” McCoy mutters and angles his chin as if he is not intending to allow Spock to kiss him properly.

“You have made me quite aware, thank you,” Spock says and leans further over until McCoy capitulates with another sigh, kissing him back with salty, sun warmed lips.

…

“I don’t want to hear it,” McCoy says and holds up a finger that Spock supposes is intended to be threatening.

“Hear what?” Spock says.

“Anything.”  McCoy leans back and shuts his eyes.  Bubbles cling to his chest above the lap of water.  His fingers, where they rest on the sides of the tub, bear wrinkles and prunes in skin that has grown pale from waterlog.

“Activities such as bathing are generally intended to improve one’s disposition,” Spock says.

“Shitty day,” McCoy says.

Spock studies the sight before him.  The poke of a knee through the surface of the water, the curl of damp hair at the nape of McCoy’s neck, the red flush across his chest and throat.

Spock turns on the tap.  For a moment, the tableau remains quiet.  Peaceful.  Then, McCoy yelps.

“Goddammit, are you trying to turn me into a lobster?”

“I am simply raising the temperature to a more tolerable level,” Spock says and removes his shirt.  “Sit up.”

“This isn’t big enough,” McCoy says as if he is not leaning forward in invitation.

“I quite agree,” Spock says and in the slippery negotiation of knees and thighs and “Dammit Spock, I don’t bend like that”, bubbles and water splash to the floor.  He will clean it later.  He pulls McCoy back against his chest.  

“This is remarkably unpleasant,” Spock says into a curved ear and McCoy’s body lurches with his short laugh.  

“It is, isn’t it,” McCoy says and settles back into him.

Spock finds his hand.  “Unbearable.”

[captainsbabysitter-blog]

Alrighty, then! Continuation of this little angsty nugget last night because I had lovely people like @mccoymostly requesting one.

I have to admit these have been odd for me because my writing is usually very dialogue heavy, so I’m not sure if this actually reads as clunky as I think it does or if it’s just because I’m so used to writing a specif way.

Anyway, hope y’all enjoy! I might do more, but I’m not sure.

It was slow going. At least for Leonard, it was slow. After Spock had entered the room and voiced his desire to resume their relationship, Jim was all aboard but Bones needed more time. He ignored the slight twist in his chest and reminded himself it was only logical for Leonard to be wary.

Even with this second chance, Spock found it difficult to demonstrate even the smallest bit of affection after spending so much time attempting to purge all emotion from his being. Jim was understanding and kept his own touches to a minimum, avoiding all touch outside his quarters. Both discussed ways to increase Spock’s chances of drawing Leonard back into the fold; it boiled down to patience and perseverance. Spock had both of these things in abundance.

Then the ship was once again in danger. He knew going in that this was likely, but Spock couldn’t help the brief rise of irritation at the timing. How was he supposed to navigate the minefield that was Doctor McCoy with this strange new entity threatening their lives in the form of their shipmate?

Throwing himself into a solution seemed to be his only option. In the meantime, he once again became shorter with Jim. He needed to keep the both of them safe from whatever this creature and its crew were and he couldn’t focus on both. Hopefully Jim would understand when this was all over.

He couldn’t explain why he felt the need to suit up and fly out toward the ship of V’Ger. He also couldn’t explain the sudden urge to meld with the consciousness he felt. In an instant, he felt as though electricity were surging through every cell of his being and then the next thing he knows in the gentle beep of a biobed and quiet conversation between Leonard and Jim.

It struck him how ridiculous the whole ordeal was. A chuckle bubbled its way out of his throat before he could tamp it back down and it brought the other two to his side in an instant. He was sure his relief was palpable even through their weakened bond when Jim clasped Spock’s hand in his. When he glanced at Leonard, Spock noticed the softening of his eyes.

When the whole ordeal was done, and Spock was startled by Leonard shooting a quip his way instead of a barb. Later that evening, once the ship was on course for home, Spock allowed himself the slightest of smiles as Len grabbed his hand to drag him into the captain’s quarters just before he turned the corner heading to his own.

If Leonard was maybe just a bit more fussy than usual when arranging their sleeping positions, neither he nor Jim would say a word about it. Not when things were beginning to feel right again.

“You’re still not off the hook, mister,” Len mumbled even as his laced his fingers with Spock’s. The surge of affection tempered with only a hint of reservation soothed him more than anything else had up until this moment.

“Of course, Leonard.”

“Go to sleep Bones.”

[samingtonwilson]

Loot- Part 2 - Jim Kirk

Loot masterlist

Word Count: 2,045

Warnings: language (probably) 

A/N: this part is just to establish how Jim is towards the reader and vice versa, it is very dialogue-driven. I just wanted to make their respective attitudes and behaviors known since they didn’t really interact in the first part. i have nothing else to say, really. like/reblog n leave feedback n say whassup every now and then. yall are experts at NOT DOING ANY OF THAT. smh ENJOY THIS N TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK i personally find the reader character p cool. IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN SUBSEQUENT PARTS, LEMME KNOW

Your back pressed against the wall of pillows behind you, you stared at your hands as you passed the artifact from one palm to the other through the gaps between your fingers. You weren’t sure why it was such a big deal to the Federation, to the man on whose behalf you performed the robbery, to the fanged, stone-knuckled creatures you stole it from. It didn’t look to be any more special than the average pocket watch it resembled— it was the size of your palm and was made of an iron-like material. Said metal of the round artifact felt rusted and worn from years of neglect and corrosion courtesy of the bi-monthly acid rains that fell upon the industry-oriented, environmentally-unconscious, dingy-brown-skied wasteland of a planet.

You stuck the fingernail of your thumb into the opening along the circumference, careful not to pry it open with fear for the subsequent result. You thought there must be a reason it was so sought after— the Federation wouldn’t send the flagship of the fleet for something unimportant or ineffectual. Hell, you wouldn’t have been beat so mercilessly had the artifact been as ordinary as its appearance.

In order to curb the results of your paranoia, you were actively ignoring any sounds around you. The beeping of the biobed made you anxious and the sounds outside the thin metal door were less than pleasant with an apparent food poisoning epidemic going around the Enterprise— you had no desire to listen to the high-ranking officers you were supposed to admire vomit up everything they’d eaten for the last week, especially when your stomach was already sensitive.

You heard the series of knocks, though, and instantly dropped the artifact into your lap. You then covered yourself with layers of white made up of a white blanket, white sheet, and white comforter— nothing could be seen through that much stark white fabric. You cleared your throat. Your pulse was now too quick and the beeping of the biobed let you know so. “Come in.”

The door slid open with a swish and a smile adorned the face of the man waiting on the other side. It wasn’t the brightest smile, nor was it the biggest— yet it touched his crystalline blue eyes a little and caused the skin beside them to wrinkle faintly. However, because his eyebrows were raised only a fraction of an inch and his posture stayed tense, it didn’t help the spike in your heartbeat. “Cadet.”

“Captain,” you said simply with a nod of your head and a smile that you hoped matched his.

“How are you feeling?”

You could feel the smile in the apples of your cheeks and slowly dropped it. “Better. Dr. McCoy is exactly as incredible as he, himself, says he is.”

“In all fairness, he didn’t set your ribs. A machine did that,” Jim said as his smile grew a little. There was a soft sparkle in his eyes that took some time to fade. “He told me you have a mild concussion.”

You nodded and sighed to yourself at the soft ache that ran up your back as a consequence for your movement. “Mild enough to give me double vision that made me think Commander Spock sprouted an equally monotone twin. I lived in that confusion for over a day.”

You had been in the medbay for two days now and, within the first twelve hours, were promoted from a biobed in the emergency unit to a room of your own far away from ill crew members awaiting treatment. While those twelve hours were becoming difficult to recall, the staunchness and official capacity of Jim’s behavior was hard to forget. He had kept his posture pin-straight and tense, not an iota of expression over his features and not even a scarcity of spirit in his voice. It’d been unnerving being around him— his mere presence had made you want to shrink away, hide behind a wall or a curtain to protect secrets you knew he’d be able to pull out of you through the series of questions that never seemed to end. During those twelve hours and twelve hours following, you thought his blue eyes could peek into your soul and see all of the dirt covering what was once pure.

Slowly, though, his presence was becoming a source of calm. Once he stopped asking you said questions and paid heed to McCoy’s advice to wait until you’d fully recovered to continue the regulation-dictated interrogations, he let his captain-like behavior slip away at a slow, but sure speed. You found that he was a lot friendlier than you’d first assumed. He made quiet jokes, had a comment for everything anyone would say, and looked to be genuinely concerned about you— something you weren’t accustomed to. You didn’t let that sweep you off your feet, though. That would entail a drop in your guard which would only result in your demise— something you couldn’t stand for.

He laughed through his nose and shut his eyes for a brief moment. Placing his hands on the counter behind him, he hopped a little so he could be seated atop the metallic surface. He let his posture slouch a bit then, leaning his elbows against his knees as a playful expression crossed his features. “Can’t imagine what that stress must’ve been like.”

“Two Spocks is probably less stressful than captaining the Enterprise,” you said with a slight tilt of your head. You watched one of his eyebrows move skyward. “I mean, I can’t think of another reason you come to visit me so often. I’m not really that injured— or interesting, for that matter.”

He sat back, his back awkwardly bent due to the towel dispenser hitting the middle of his spine. “Maybe I find you interesting.”

You snorted and leaned back as well, your back against pillows. “What a compliment. The great Captain Kirk finds me interesting— a concussed cadet he found tied to a chair. It’s definitely a story your fanclub at the Academy would love to hear.”

“Fanclub?” he repeated, raising both of his eyebrows and frowning in consideration though he looked to be fighting a smile.

“Amazing, isn't it? It's like your career as Starfleet’s golden boy has finally found meaning.”

“Yes, I’m only in this for the fame and fanclubs, Cadet— don’t let the self-sacrifices change your opinion on that.”

“Can you actually still call it self-sacrifice if you mention it every chance you get?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Touché.” He wet his lips as his laughter died down and he dragged his hands down the lap of his trousers. He was watching the small movements you made. “But I do find you interesting.”

“In, like, a clinician sort of way?”

He rolled his eyes and snorted a laugh. “No, not in ‘like, a clinician sort of way.’ Genuinely.”

“And not in, like, a florence nightingale syndrome sort of way?”

He tilted his head to the left. His thick eyebrows came together. “What?”

“Florence nightingale syndrome,” you repeated with a short nod that sent a jolt of pain through your torso— not worth it considering Jim looked just as confused. “It’s like lima syndrome except a caregiver is like the captor, and a patient or wounded one is like the hostage.”

“Lima syndrome?”

You scowled at him. “It’s the opposite of Stockholm syndrome. Christ, how are you considered Starfleet’s best and brightest?”

He smiled at that— smugly, like his ego had been waiting for such a stroke. “I’m considered Starfleet’s best and brightest?” When the only response he received from you was a scoff and roll of your eyes, he sighed exaggeratedly. “No, Cadet, not in a florence nightgown sort of way.”

“Florence nightingale.”

“Right, nightingale,” he said with another smile that prompted three erratic beeps of the biobed monitors. “I find you interesting in a real, genuine sort of way.”

“Why?”

He ignored your question. “You know, I contacted the Academy as soon as Bones assured me you were going to be okay— told them what happened and asked about you, your ambitions, your history.”

“You don’t think that’s a gross invasion of privacy?”

“Considering I found you in a murky situation I still have no clarity on and you’re a guest on my ship comprising of over a thousand crew members,” he began with narrowed eyes, “no, I don’t think that’s an invasion of privacy. I needed to know what I was dealing with.”

You knew the information Starfleet had on file wasn’t enough to harm you, it was just the idea of Jim knowing so much without your permission that bothered you and made your heartbeat quicken. The biobed monitor beeped in response.

You wanted to cross your arms over your chest or find some sort of way to look tougher than you felt. Everything you contemplated would be too painful given your condition. You settled for just staring back at Jim in the way that he stared at you: eyebrows together, eyes narrowed, head cocked. “And what is it you’re dealing with?”

“Someone a lot like me.”

You eyed him silently for a minute to gauge if he was serious. “What makes you say that?”

“Your police record, aptitude test scores, family history.”

You sighed out a laugh. “Family hist— I was raised by my mom’s sister, my Starfleet record and I don’t even know who my father is. Meanwhile, according to Admiral Pike’s dissertation, your father sacrificed himself for his crew of seven, or eight hundred.”

“See, there’s another thing— we’ve both read Pike’s dissertation.”

You managed a small smile. “I had no desire to join Starfleet until my aunt told me to not dare contemplate it— she said she’d ruin me if I did. So I joined the next day— out of spite, not honorability.”

He snorted. “I joined because Pike dared me.”

“Still, I’m not like you, Captain. I’ll never be like you.”

“Jim,” he pressed. “And I’m going to pretend your resistance doesn’t sting.”

“Seriously, Captain—” he cut you off with a click of his tongue. “Jim. Consider it a compliment that we’re nothing alike. You’re all nobility, and command gold, and those pretty blue eyes.”

He frowned. “I’m more than all of that.”

“I know you are— but I’m sure everything underneath is just as great. Everything underneath this,” you said, motioning to yourself and slyly motioning to the sheet draped over your legs more than once. “You wouldn’t want to know any of it.”

“You should let me be the judge of that.”

You let a few silent beats pass over you and the only noise in the room came from the erratic beeping of the biobed monitor. You hated it— it gave too much away.

The silence remained until the door slid open, the hiss startling you and causing you to jump. You placed your hand on your right side and bit down on your bottom lip, finally able to take your eyes from Jim’s, though he appeared to be almost hesitant to do the same.

He smiled as he looked at the door— the expression so natural and unaffected that you were actually jealous. “Bones, long time no see.”

“Yeah, it’s been a couple of hours,” you heard McCoy say in his gruff, gravelly voice that reminded you of peach cobbler. “I’m surprised you aren’t going through withdrawls.”

You followed Jim’s line of vision to the door and pulled the layers of fabric covering you to your chin— you wanted your knees to sit at your chest but knew the attempt would be too hard on your aching sides and back. You cleared your throat. “You two are cute together.”

“I’m cute together with more people than you can count, sweetheart,” McCoy told you with a smile and a wink. He combed the fingers of one hand through his dark hair, which was shiny and perfectly coiffed, and used the other to hold his PADD at his side, the screen rubbing against the smooth blue fabric of his uniform.

He took the few steps it required to reach you, standing beside your bed as he recorded your vitals on the aforementioned PADD. He squinted his hazel eyes at the biobed monitor. “How are you feelin’?”

“If I say awful, will you give me the good painkillers?”

[moderndaybard]

2020 Weekly Ficlet 10/52(? We’ll see?)

Ever At Your Side, Part 1/7 (Kirk) [New Trek/Pokemon Crossover. Because why not] 

(Part 2-Spock; Part 3-Bones; Part 4-Uhura; Part 5-Scotty; Part 6-Sulu; Part 7-Chekov)

 Beginnings:

In hindsight, the bar fight would appear to be a very stupid idea.

And yet, when one considered all the good that came of it for the two of them, one could also argue that James Kirk and Esther opened the door to their best life when they threw that punch and launched that double-kick. That, of course, would leave you open to the counter argument that neither knew what would come out of that mis-matched brawl, and that neither had a better reason to fight than, at that moment, for whatever reason, they felt like it, and thus it could not be called a ‘good idea’ if all the benefits came without reason or expectation.

And of course, all that would be much more rational thought than either was capable of, in the moment.

For years, Jim would insist that the actual fight had been Cupcake’s—sorry, Herndoff’s—fault: after all, the teasing/flirting with Miss No-First-Name Uhura had never crossed any lines, nor had she shown any discomfort. (Had she, he would have backed off, he’s not a savage, thank you.) And she’d even told the other cadet it was nothing she couldn’t handle—she was fine, they were fine, there was no reason for the tourist to get all pissy and pretend he was better than the locals just because he had a baby uniform and the chance to get onto a ship someday, if the Academy didn’t kick him out long before then. Jim was just doing the atmosphere a favor by taking him down a peg.

As the barbs threatened to turn physical, there was a flash of white light, and Jim smirked. Right on cue—haven’t missed a fight yet. The light faded, revealing that the Pokemon who’d released themselves was none other than—

“EEVEE!”

Stunned silence, for a moment, as the five cadets stared at the little brown furball vibrating with rage or anticipation, it was hard to tell on that little baby-face. She wasn’t scraggly—was evidently cared for—but she did look a little underfed (admittedly, so did Kirk, at that point), and while words like ‘cute,’ ‘friendly,’ and ‘lovable’ came easily to mind to describe any Eevee, ‘intimidating’ rarely did. Thus, silence was soon replaced by laughter, then Cupcake pulled out his own pokeball, releasing a—

“MACHOKE!”

Jim looked up at the taller trainer, who was smirking, waiting for the type-disadvantage and size-difference to make the local recall his fluffball and run, tail between his legs. Jim looked down at Esther, ready as ever for an unofficial, no-rules scrap, and trainer and pokemon shared a toothy grin before hurling themselves at their stunned, much-larger opponents.

Cupcake was, momentarily, taken aback that Kirk was getting as physical as his pokemon—he had expected a slightly more formal battle style once the pokemon were released—but he recovered quickly, knowing Duke should be able to take down a tiny normal-type without constant coaching, and turned his attention to pounding the blond-haired upstart into a pulp.

As eager as they were for a fight, both Jim and Esther were outmatched: Kirk was fighting five larger guys at once and had already been drinking quite a bit that evening; Esther knew only one fighting-type attack, and everything else she could throw at any of the fighting-types now menacing her would be resisted. That didn’t stop either of them from hitting and kicking, even clawing and biting, at every chance they got. And whenever one saw the other knocked down or pinned, new rage would fill them, allowing them to temporarily seize the upper hand.

Eventually, though, the disadvantages were too telling: Kirk was pinned to a tabletop, being struck repeatedly in the face, while Duke had Esther pinned under one foot and was pressing down while the smaller creature, only half-conscious, struggled to pull herself free.

A piercing whistle rent the air, freezing all still in the now-disheveled bar, and an older man barked a few orders, clearing out all the cadets, who recalled their pokemon and scrambled out of the building. Kirk pulled himself to his feet and dragged himself, stumbling, over to Esther, ignoring the newcomer for a moment as he scooped up the battered Eevee, cradling her as she nestled closer to her trainer.

Before he could even turn, the one who’d stopped the fight handed him a Super Potion and a handful of napkins. Kirk looked up to see an assessing light in the other man’s eyes, and something else that kept him from protesting when the other man asked, “Can we talk?”

.........................................

Meetings:

Aside from a few off-handed comments, the conversation did not dwell on the preceding fight, turning instead to family history Jim desperately tried to pretend he didn’t care about. Pike did pause at one moment, looking at the Eevee who showed no inclination to return to her ball at the moment.

“An Eevee, huh? Not a typical choice for someone with your record and background.”

Jim rested a hand on Esther’s head, the familiar memory springing to mind.

He’d just been released again—he’d lost track of which time this was, by now—and had made for his favorite bar to ‘celebrate’. Mostly, he was just trying to delay going back to the dump he called ‘home’ by sheer virtue of it being the place he slept (when he wasn’t in jail).

As he walked—well, stumbled—along the unpaved road, he found himself wondering, yet again what the hell he was doing, and, if this was all he’d ever have or do, was there really much of a point?

There were days he looked back and knew with a gut-twisting certainty that, if it weren’t for what happened next, that night would have a very different ending.

But, as it was, he missed the tell-tale rustling in the roadside grass, baked dry by the summer heat, and therefore had absolutely no preamble to being jumped by a five-pound, filthy and generally pathetic creature screaming furious death at him. Kirk hit the ground (hey, he was drunk—he wasn’t going to have the best of balance), but he did manage to catch his assailant and keep it an arm’s length away from his face, though the sharp little claws were making mincemeat of his arms.

“Hey—hey! Stop that!”

“EEVEE!”

It took quite a few second looks to confirm the call: this pokemon was half-starved, her fur had none of the fluff or shine associated with her species, and she seemed to have a few scars of fights with other wild pokemon. In all, she looked as washed-up as he’d just been feeling.

“Cut that out, I’m trying to help you!”

That froze them both, human and pokemon wondering if what he’d just said was, in fact, true. Kirk recovered first, deciding to make it true, and started picking burs out of the stringy fur of her neck ruff, trying to be as gentle as his lack of sobriety would allow and muttering (hopefully) soothing nonsense as he did so.

Eventually, the creature stopped squirming and grew mostly still, allowing Kirk to feel her trembling. Instinctively, despite the warmth of the evening, he drew her closer, his first thought being she was cold. It wasn’t until after she nuzzled up to him and stopped shaking that he realized he’d somehow acquired a pokemon without any intention of ever doing so, really.

And who could say which one had caught which?

..................................................

Jim looked back up at Pike, shrugging nonchalantly. “I wasn’t the one who did the choosing.”

With that, the subject was left behind and the conversation moved on to the offer that Jim struggled to understand, much less accept, little realizing just how much things were about to change for him and for Esther.

In hindsight, the fight may have been a stupid idea, but it was still one of the best things to happen to them.

 (Continue reading on AO3) 

[fanscribbling]

Terra Nova ~Part Six: Panopticon~

[See my Masterlist for earlier sections- don’t know why but right now adding the  links are negating my tags. Tumblr.]

I’m ridiculously pleased that the reaction to this series so far has been mainly WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING??! XD Exactly what I was aiming for. Well wonder (mostly) no more, this behemoth chapter holds many answers! (I’m afraid the others will most likely be shorter :P ) Six down, four more to go! <3

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS/TOS).

Pairing: Reader X Bones (and they’re FINALLY together!)

Words: 3,066

Warnings: Some mild swearing, general tension, kidnap mention, seizure mention, death mention (non-active character), general angst

Tagging: @medicatemedrmccoy, @outside-the-government​, @kilismaiden, @gerardwayisapotato, @yourtropegirl, @malindacath, and @imaginativefanatic. Let me know if you want to be added!

“What the hell!”

Jumping apart, the two of you scrambled out of the bed and pressed your backs into the opposite wall. Bones looped his arm around you and pulled you close, weaving your shaking fingers with his.

“So you saw that too huh?”

You felt Bones laugh weakly. “I’m starting to doubt my psychosis theory, unless someone’s lacing the water.”

“We can’t wait any longer,” you said, ignoring his last comment and turning to face him. “We’re stuck here for God knows what reason, and if it’s generator interference I’m a Klingon. We need to take stock, see what’s around here, then reconvene.”

He nodded silently, pulling his comm from his belt. “Do you know a private frequency the two of us can use?”

“Yes,” you took the device and fiddled with the knob, then did the same to your own. Handing Bones his comm back, you moved across the room.

“Y/l/n to Bones,” you whispered.

“McCoy here,” came his hushed answer.

“Good,” you smiled and walked back to his side. “I’ll check out the expanse behind the houses, see if anything’s odd.”

“Our phasers are gone,” Bones said. “How will you-”

“I’ll be careful,” you said simply. “Promise.”

“Do,” leaning in, Bones pressed his lips to yours. When he pulled away you could see fear in the corners of his eyes. You laid a hand gently on his cheek.

“You’re not getting rid of me Leonard McCoy,” you smirked. “We have unfinished business.” 

Bones laughed softly, and his hand came up to meet yours. “As long as you promise - I’ll take the main township.”

**************************************************************************************************** “Are you certain you’ve checked all seventy-six Denovian dialects?”

Kirk pressed his thumbs into his temples, breathing deeply and trying unsuccessfully to force the faint ache from his muscles. If only there could be quiet for one goddamn minute.

“Yes Sir –” Uhura shouted back, her voice cracking with strain, “and all recorded variations. Mr. Spock should be back with more files soon.”

“Good,” Kirk replied, his own voice becoming increasingly ragged. “Thank you Lieutenant, I know I’ve asked this twice already.”

“No problem Captain,” Uhura nodded. She gave him a quick smile, then refocused on her screen.

Closing his eyes, Kirk sighed and turned on his heels. The head was still there. It was hope to the point of foolishness to think otherwise, with the creature’s voice still filling the bridge. The harsh hissing never ceased, like constant intense static, with pops and clicks that were starting to set his teeth on edge. Kirk had no idea how it was even possible to make that sound, and as he settled back into the captain’s chair, his eyes roved over the creature’s face for what was certainly the hundredth time. The skull was long - longer even than those generic twentieth century alien models. Long white hair fell in layers around the large eyes, which blinked with some kind of translucent secondary lid. It felt to Kirk like their gaze never ceased. Silver skin shimmered like fish scales, sparkling in the bridge lights, and the mouth - oddest of all - was frozen in a perpetual O. 

They’d be beautiful if they weren’t holding two of my people, Kirk thought. Then, with sudden inspiration, Kirk moved to the head in two quick strides and thrust his face into the open mouth.

“Captain?”

“Yes Mr. Spock?” Came Kirk’s muffled voice.

“May I inquire as to why you are currently inside the projection?”

“Research, Mr. Spock,” Kirk replied, looking around a second or two longer before extricating his head. “I was curious as to how one being made two sounds at once. The answer is two internal mouths, one on each side of the jaw.”

“Fascinating,” Spock said, moving to the head and glancing in as well. “Highly reminiscent of the natives of Targos III.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

The captain and his first officer looked at each other for a moment, and Kirk swore he could almost see a smile on the Vulcan’s impassive face.

“Lieutenant Uhura,” Spock said, moving quickly across the bridge. “It looks like we have a framework.”

**************************************************************************************************** “Doctor.”

About to leave the house, Bones spun to find Trixie standing behind him. Her face was set, and he noticed that for the first time there was no hint of a smile. 

“Trixie. Look, I just wanted to see the town at night, the stars must be –”

“You saw the wall.”

Bones broke off, momentarily speechless. “Yes.”

Trixie nodded, smiling sadly. “The sweep’s done, we’re safe to talk now. At least,” she laughed humourlessly, “we think so.”

“What do you mean the sweep?” Bones asked, moving towards her. “And okay, if we can speak freely, what on God’s green earth is –”

“Just follow me,” Trixie said, turning to move off into an inner room. “We’ll tell you what we can.”

**************************************************************************************************** “Goddamn leaves,” you muttered to yourself, crushing weeds with your boots as you tramped through what felt like endless underbrush. Turning your flashlight towards the ground you growled. “Goddamn grass and stupid purple flowers.”

You’d been walking for ages, and covered what you were certain was miles of forest. Even as you ranted at nothing, venting your frustration at being trapped, you couldn’t help the happiness that kept pushing its way through the anger and fear. You could still feel his mouth on yours, his hands on your skin. A smile grew across your face, even as you halfheartedly smacked a low hanging branch, a slight spring in your step.

Too late, you realized that you probably should have checked the ground before bouncing. You felt your toes catch on something and stumbled forward, grabbing out for anything, and both your hands landed flat – pressing hard against thin air. 

**************************************************************************************************** A door creaked open slowly. 

“Hello,” Bones smiled kindly as he greeted the young woman who had appeared. She glanced at him quickly, eyes moving immediately back to the wooden floor, arms wrapped around herself. She moved off around the room, settling down by Lan and pressing herself into her companion’s side. Lan wrapped a protective arm over the woman in turn, rubbing a hand along her back. 

They all sat in a circle, chairs and stools pulled up around a fire pit. The flames were false, but still it helped to make the room feel a little warmer. Bones shifted in his seat, looking around at their faces. Like the newcomer, there were a few he’d not seen before. A man with a pointed face, thin dark eyes, and a large scar running across his forehead, nose, and mouth; a stocky woman with short black hair that grew along either side of her head, exposing the deep green markings that ran along her scalp, trailing down the edges of her face, neck and arms, to stop at her fingertips; and last the woman now nestled in Lan’s arms, brown skin unhealthily pale, and her body willow thin - almost emaciated. They fit naturally into the group, who sat hunched, faces in their hands or eyes staring blankly into the flames. 

“We wanted to meet your partner too.”

Bones turned to the woman on his right. Her blonde hair fell beyond her waist, and her eyes were a piercing blue against the paleness of her skin. 

“Most of you already have.”

“No,” the woman shook her head, “no we haven’t. Where is she?”

“Exploring outside.”

The woman nodded, turning back to the fire.

“I don’t think I caught your name,” Bones said, trying to start some kind of conversation. 

“Lenore,” she replied, not looking at him. “Ship’s Counsellor – USS Farragut.”

“What?”

Before Bones could ask anything else, Ayo entered and took the last empty seat. 

“We’re sorry we couldn’t say anything,” Trixie began, lifting her head and looking at Bones. “We never can in the day, and last night – with the new baby – they’d wouldn’t have left us alone.”

“Look,” Bones said, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “You say you can speak freely now, but you’re all being very cryptic. What’s going on, are you being watched?”

People around the circle shared looks. They seemed to be deciding who should answer. 

“Yes,” Tanya said, breaking the silence as she shifted Colin in her arms. “At least, that’s what makes most sense.

“They do a final check every night,” Lan added. “And food appears most mornings. On the days it doesn’t, we have to go into town, to the market.”

“We have to keep smiling,” a small voice said, the words halting and slow. The group turned towards the woman by Lan’s side, who shifted her head so she too could look at the doctor. “They don’t like it - when we’re sad.”

“Melody was having trouble adjusting,” Lan said. “We never found out what happened, but out of nowhere she was lying in the middle of the street, seizing.”

“Maybe I can help –” Bones began, leaning forward, but at his movement Melody sunk back, burying her face in Lan’s shoulder. 

“When we found out Wendy was expecting they knew too,” Ayo said, and Bones turned to look at him. “Food with more nutrients appeared, heavy in folic acid and calcium. When she craved something, it arrived the next day. That’s why she wanted the sheet. They weren’t going to invade her privacy, not then. They didn’t get to control that.”

“The wind,” Bones said, understanding dawning on him, “and what she was saying –” 

He paused, looking from Lan to Trixie to Ayo. He had suddenly realized who was missing. “Where’s Wendy?”

“They don’t like it when we’re sad,” the man with the scar repeated, his hands moving in fluid movements as he signed. “Or when we’re difficult. Sometimes they send challenges, and sometimes –”

“Sometimes,” the tattooed woman broke in, her voice hard. “Sometimes people disappear.”

**************************************************************************************************** It felt like your brain had shorted out. Unable to believe what you were feeling you lifted your right hand, leaving your left flat against the air, and watched as a leaf danced a few inches in front of it, blown by a breeze you couldn’t feel. You replaced your hand – still solid. 

Stepping back, you took a few deep breaths. You must be overtaxed, or tired, or something. This could not be real. Shaking your head, you moved a little to the left and extended your arms. This time, your right hand found a transparent wall and the other cut through the air, throwing you off balance. 

You tumbled to the ground, knocking the air out of your lungs as you landed on your side. Groaning, you sucked air back into your lungs and rolled onto your knees. Halfway to your feet, you paused when something glimmered a few meters away. Focusing on the light, you moved slowly towards it, careful not to press yourself against the barrier, should it be there. You had no idea what could be on the other side.  

**************************************************************************************************** “I was in my quarters.”

Trixie was speaking, her voice low and taut. Her fingers interlaced, hands twisting as she told her story to the floor. “I’d just finished a call with my parents. Dad was so happy; mum had come home from the hospital with the all clear. I was going back to Georgia the next week during my leave. It was a routine maintenance check, nothing dangerous. I’d done it a hundred times, but that day I left the airlock, and then I was here.”

She pressed her palms to the sides of her head. Melody shifted and Lan went to Trixie, kissing her forehead softly. Back shuddering, Trixie took in a long breath. 

“There were thirty of us then. I was the last addition before they sent the plague. We woke up one morning and there was just this rotting –” she broke off again, wiping her hands roughly over her glistening face. “Anyway, there were only a few left after that. I’ll never forget the sound Lana made. Fourteen- she was only fourteen,” Trixie looked up, and Bones could see anger rising to replace the pain. She clearly felt it too, and stood in one sudden motion. “I can’t, I need to walk for a minute.”

The room was silent as Trixie left. Ayo sighed. “It’s still hard sometimes, even to remember.”

“All the time,” said the tattooed woman, whose name, Bones had been told, was Jaz. “It’s always hard. I’ve been staying inside for now – can’t smile much. I’ll have to come out soon though, they might start thinking I’m useless,” she let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Can’t hide in the Panopticon.”

“If you need any help –”

“Yeah, Lenore, I know. Thanks.” Jaz said, her voice losing its sardonic edge. Her London accent grew thick as she refocused on the stick she was pulling apart. “I promise, I’ll come to you if I need. Right now I have to wait it out, they were all I had.”

**************************************************************************************************** You could feel damp seeping into your shirt as you pulled yourself around a large bush. Huffing with effort, you extricated yourself, brambles scraping along your boots, and with a few more shuffles, you were there.

The longer you stared at it, the odder it seemed. It crackled with energy, throwing light across your hands and arms. Floating a foot off the ground, it sparked upwards in a long triangle. For a while you sat there, staring at it, your mind working overtime thinking of a way you could interact. Finally, you decided there was only one real option, and took your communicator from your belt.

You extended the device towards the split in the air, memorizing Bones’ frequency just in case your comm survived. Closing your eyes, you listened for the hum of the energy, letting the pitch settle inside you as your mind searched for a memory of a similar tone from the Enterprise. This was a party trick of yours, but even in fun you’d never been more than a few hertz off. Relaxing, you started to hum the sound as well, letting your fingers move the comm dial automatically as a faint memory appeared in the back of your mind. The device began to shake, a thin squealing sound sliding from the casing seams. You were close, so close-

The squeal stopped, the dial slid into place, and your eyes flew open as the energy arced across the air, opening a large cut in the space in front of you.

**************************************************************************************************** “It was a cargo run,” Jaz was saying, directing this towards Bones. “Alpha Taurus VII to the nearest Starfleet base. I was the only human in a mixed crew, I even got these tattoos to match theirs. We were a family, and then I met T’pal.”

Jaz smiled, more to herself than anyone else. “He was so logical about it. I mean Vulcans, that’s how they are, but the way he said it – For us to be parted Ashayam, would be to part your moon from its tides. So straightforward, I loved that about him. We loved each other, and our daughter,” Jaz’s hands were clenched tightly around the stick, knuckles white. “She’ll be walking now, and talking. At least, if it’s been as long as it seems. We were an unlisted freighter, maybe that’s why they felt I wouldn’t be missed,” She laughed softly, running a hand over her scalp. “Maybe they were right, he’s never come for me.”

“No-one’s come for any of us Jaz,” Tanya replied, her voice stern but not angry. “Ayo and I know there are people back on Earth looking for us. We were taken mid-lesson, in front of all our students. They’re getting sloppy, and one day we’ll get out of here, but we have no clue where we are – most likely no-one can find us. T’pal’s looking, you have to believe that.”

“You’re past the horizon line,” Bones said. “It’s not on Starfleet’s charts. The Enterprise was meant to be the first to reach it, that’s why we were so surprised when we got the medical beacon.”

“So that’s how they did it,” Judy breathed. “We were wondering how you found us. If that’s the case the Enterprise won’t be going anywhere. If they can pluck us from our ships halfway across the galaxy, they can keep all of us here, and they won’t give up easily.”

**************************************************************************************************** There was a hallway in front of you, dark and empty, with grey stone floors. Glass walls vaulted upwards, and moving closer to the window in the air, you saw that large pillars marked breaks in the clear surface. The stone arched upwards and fingered out, twisting with ivy that hung down in vines. 

It was beautiful, you thought, like a cathedral.

Your eyes roved over the scene, coming to rest on the opposite wall. At once, you felt your heart start to race, jumping into your throat as you shuffled backwards so fast your knees stung. Hiding yourself behind a small fern, you wrapped shaking arms around your sides.

It was a large black frame, set into the glass with thin doors on either side. The inside of the frame was dark, but you could just see small waves slopping against the barrier, the silhouette of a wooden dock not far in the distance. It wasn’t this that had sent you reeling – it was the words, set in gleaming silver against the darkness of the water. 

Terran Wing: 1500-1650 CE. Enter to explore.

As you watched, your breathing shallow, a tall figure strode quickly to the other side of your window. They held a small device covered in blinking neon lights, and their mouth was open in a perpetual O.

**************************************************************************************************** “Just one more variation,” Spock said, leaning over as Uhura’s hands flew across the console. “Add an Ataxi- yes, that’s perfect Lieutenant.”

“Should we modulate?”

“No, this will do,” Spock straightened up, turning to Kirk. “Captain, I believe we –”

His words were cut off as the hissing dropped in pitch and skewed, resolving itself into a booming, baritone voice.

“You are in orbit around A’xar, the private property of the Nexus Conservatory. You will leave orbit in two hours or your ship will be disabled and impounded. All unnecessary inhabitants will be removed.”

The head paused, as if listening to something.

“No sound is emanating from your bridge,” it said. “I believe you understand.”

And it disappeared.