#hopefully i can see a doctor BEFORE my hand becomes permanently unusable

[devotedlystrangewizard]

never wanting to draw until you cant is the worst i hate it

[vivxwrites]

Let’s Do It

*not my gif*

Word Count: 1347

Summary: You relationship with Natasha has hit a stale point and you realize that needs to change when you find out that you’re pregnant.

Warnings: Mention of vomiting, Some light angst

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

A/N: Request by an anon, I hope you enjoy it :) I did my best to make it long for you and I sincerely hope it’s what you imagined it to be. Enjoy.

Set in an AU where a woman can biologically and naturally get another woman pregnant (just go with it).

You sighed as you carded your fingers through your unruly hair. You had just finished fight number four of this month with your girlfriend of three years, Natasha. Lately the two of you fought over every little thing and quite frankly, you were growing tired of it. The stress was getting to you and you found it was starting to affect your mental health too. You stepped into the large shower and let the blistering hot water fall over your skin in an effort to relax yourself. The relaxing atmosphere brought your mind to a happier time in your relationship with Nat and you yearned to go back. To go back to a time where Natasha was home and where whatever time you spent with her wasn’t taken up by lashing out at each other. A tear made its way down your face as all of your troubled feelings punched you in the gut at once. Your girlfriend was never home, your relationship was crumbling slowly into thousands of pieces, did she even love you anymore? A panicked feeling crawled up into your chest at the thought. It dug itself into your chest and your knees buckled below you. You were completely numb on the outside while on the inside your mind raced around faster than Natasha on her motorcycle. Tears flowed freely down your face, mixing with the water spraying out of the shower-head. When you finally mustered up enough strength to stand again you shut the water off and stumbled to your bed, falling into it and crying painful tears until you finally fall asleep.

You woke up the next morning and a wave of nausea promptly spread over you. You rushed to the toilet and emptied the contents of your stomach. Since you weren’t sick you chalked the nausea up to being a result of crying yourself to sleep last night and went about the rest of your day. It passed, with no Natasha in sight. You sighed and went to bed, alone and cold. When you woke up that morning, the nausea was there again and so you rushed back to the toilet. The following two mornings started the same and so you finally scheduled an appointment to see what was up with your stomach. 

“Have you taken a pregnancy test lately?” The doctor had just finished going through a check up and after ruling out any illnesses, concluded that you were either pregnant or suffering through a condition of sorts.

You pondered the question and tapped a finger against your chin. A look of wonder crossed your face, could you really be pregnant? A warm smile slowly appeared on your face as you  imagined what having a little Natasha running around would be like. “You know doctor, I haven’t. Do you have any on hand?”

The doctor nodded and reached into a draw, handing the packaged pregnancy test to you. You took a hesitant step into the bathroom, then the next few steps quickly and stared at the test. After a while you shrugged and followed the directions to the test, wondering if it would appear with double lines or not. 

Time stood at a standstill while you waited for the pregnancy test to process. You and Natasha hadn’t been intimate together in…how long was it now? You had no idea but you assumed that it was sometime before the fighting started which was...six weeks ago, give or take.

You paced around anxiously for the remainder of the ten minutes that the test was supposed to take, fiddling with your fingers and picking at your nails. As if your mind had an internal timer, you glanced towards the test and peered down at its display. Two blue lines. You sucked in a breath and held your tears at bay. The only coherent thought you had flickered through your mind repeatedly, Natasha needs to know.

Later that night, after searching through the entire compound, you knocked on the door to Natasha’s room…which was unused since the two of you had moved in together, right? You felt like breaking into sobs as your mind tore itself into pieces, some praying that Natasha wasn’t inside, sleeping without you, while the others desperately wanted to see her, no matter the current circumstances. 

After a few minutes of a vicious battle between the pieces of your consciousness, the door finally creaked open to show a sleepy, bleary eyed Natasha. ‘So she was sleeping without you, ouch,’ you thought. She blinked a few times and you watched as her mind processed that you were the one who had knocked on the door. “(Y/N).”

“Hi Nat,” you spoke meekly and fiddled with the bottom of your shirt, “I need to tell you something, can I come in?”

“Yeah of course.” The tension in the air was obvious as you cautiously took a seat on her couch. She looked at you, her head tilted in question and you internally cooed at the sight.

You squeezed your eyes shut and decided to just rip the bandage off. “I’m pregnant.” She blinked at you and her mouth formed the shape of an o. 

Natasha was silent and you kept your ears open for even the slightest sound from her. When nothing came after a while, you opened your mouth to speak again, only to find yourself cut off as she finally spoke up, “Let’s do it.”

“What?” You spoke the word slowly and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, you certainly weren’t expecting her to say that.

“Let’s do it, (Y/N). Let’s have a kid, let’s start a family.” She sunk to her knees and scooted on the floor until she was situated in front of you. She grabbed your hands and laced her fingers through yours, giving both of them a firm squeeze as she glanced up at you. “You’re already pregnant, half of the work is already done. We can do it baby, I know it.”

You bit your lip and met her gaze, “You’re serious?” She nodded her head and you paused once more.

You spoke hesitantly and softly, thinking about each word carefully, “Our relationship is in shambles Nat, I mean, we aren’t even sleeping in the same bed anymore. How can we possibly have a kid?” You were conflicted, of course you wanted nothing more than to start a family with Natasha, she was it for you. It was you and her, till the end of the line...but things were so awful lately, so toxic.

“I know we’ve been fighting lately but we love each other, right?” You nodded and she let a small, sincere smile make its way onto her face. “This is just a small hiccup in our relationship, we’re three years strong babe, we’ll fix it.”

You sat, dumbfounded for a minute as you thought through her answer. The two of you could fix it, she loved you and you loved her and that was all that mattered. 

Natasha continued, her eyes pleading with you, “I know things aren’t great, but I promise to be better, to do my best for you (Y/N). Our relationship needs to change, regardless of the baby on the way. I love you and it kills me fighting with you all of the time.”

You were still conflicted but you trusted Natasha with everything that you had. You trusted that things would change, would become the environment that they needed to be in order to raise a child. You searched her eyes for one final answer, and you found it, “Ok, let’s do it.” 

She gave you a rare giddy smile and hopped up, picking you up and swinging you around the room in her arms. You squealed and she peppered your face in kisses. When she finally put you down she cupped your cheeks and connected her lips with yours, speaking to you through her actions: a language that you were expertly fluent in.

“I love you so much.” She rested her forehead against yours and clutched your arms tightly, though not enough to hurt you.

“I love you too, Natasha.”

A/N: I’m gonna use this author’s note to give a warm welcome to everyone new to my blog! My name is Viv, I run this blog and write all of the wonderful (hopefully) fics, though most of them are requests and very few are actually my own ideas. Right now I have two series going, you can find them in my masterlist (see bio) and the next parts of them will be written soon. Requests are always open and right now I’m cycling through updates to my series and a ton of Nat fics (to everyone who has requested one, I’m doing my best to go in order of when they were requested, I hope to get through all of them soon). I think that’s it, welcome to my blog and I look forward to sharing my future content with you all :) Thanks, Viv :)

Permanent Tag List: @aesthetiff @autumnjackson4 @captainwonderwidow @5aftermidnight @fansanctuary @gigglygwil @lesbian-x-blackwidow

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[sshbpodcast]

Tales from the Holodeck: DS9 Fanfic: Chris’s Teleplay

In celebration of A Star to Steer Her By’s fourth anniversary, we did what pretty much all theaters are doing right now and put together a little Zoom reading. This time around, our latest fanfics in our “Tales from the Holodeck” series are all Deep Space Nine teleplays that you can listen to us cold read here (this one starts at 1:05:58), complete with really dodgy attempts at accents! Follow along with Chris’s teleplay below or read with your friends with your own dodgy accents!

[images © Paramount/CBS]

“Day Trip”

By Chris

Random pick: Bashir

[The DS9 replimat. Garak and Bashir sit at their usual table. The doctor is just wiping his mouth and tosses his napkin casually onto his plate]

Bashir: Well, I’d best be on my way.

Garak: Yes, both of us back to our stitching. The usual time tomorrow?

Bashir: Of course. [beat] Oh, but not the day after.

Garak: Oh?

Bashir: I’m...well, the Chief has been trying to get me to visit Bajor with him and I’ve finally run out of decent excuses not to.

Garak: Excuses? Why, Doctor, I thought your friendship with Mister O’Brien was second only to ours.

Bashir: He wants to go kayaking.

Garak: Ah.

Bashir: Exactly. He somehow manages to injure himself during holosuite kayaking, and that has safety protocols! I dread to think what the real thing might do to him.

Garak: Has he ever gone kayaking outside of a simulation?

Bashir: He says he used to fairly frequently before he joined Starfleet.

Garak: But that was…

Bashir: Over twenty years ago, yes.

Garak: Well. Thank goodness he’s friends with a Doctor. Enjoy your trip. Hopefully you’re wrong and it won’t turn out to be a...what was that charming expression? A busman’s holiday!

Bashir: I sincerely hope so.

[The side of a quickly-rushing river, day. As we pan across the scene we start seeing bits of flotsam and jetsam, equipment, and before long an overturned kayak. Sprawled nearby is Bashir, unconscious, bleeding from a cut on his temple]

Opening credits

[The riverside, where a groaning Bashir slowly comes to. He gets to his feet, glances around for a few moments, lifts kayak and finds nothing]

Bashir: Chief? [pause, then louder] Chief?! [goes to activate commbadge, sees it’s not there] Damn.

[Bashir begins picking up equipment, throws away a few pieces after a brief inspection. The rest go in a small, metal valise. Looks around a bit, then begins walking]

Bashir: Chief?! Chief, can you hear me! Damn it…

[suddenly, a low growling can be heard. Julian stops dead and glances around. From a tree line a wolf emerges. But, you know, a Bajoran wolf. Maybe it has a bumpy nose or antenna or one of those wacky earrings, whatever]

Bashir: I knew we should’ve brought phasers…

[the wolf barks and leaps, Julian throws his arms in front of himself. Suddenly, a high-pitched “thwip” is heard, the wolf lets out a quick, brief whine, slams into the Doctor and the two go down in a heap]

Bashir: I...rather expected mauling to hurt more.

[Bashir pushes the wolf off himself, revealing an arrow having pierced its neck. He glances around, and a Bajoran woman can be seen at the treeline, holding a bow with a second arrow ready to be nocked. Her clothes are unlike any Bajoran outfit we’ve seen before, seemingly made of skins with obvious hand-patching and repairs scattered throughout]

Bashir: I suppose I’ve you to thank for my being alive right now, Miss...?

Ellet: Danzari Ellet.

Bashir: Miss Ellet. My name is...

Ellet: Hold! Do not come closer!

Bashir: Sorry. I don’t mean you any harm.

Ellet: You are neither Bajoran nor Cardassian.

Bashir: I’m human.

Ellet: Human...human... [beat] Federation? Here?

Bashir: Yes.

Ellet: Finally come to end our suffering at the hands of the Cardassians?

Bashir: What?

Ellet: Come now. I know the Federation has ignored the plight of Bajor, but you know what has happened here.

Bashir: Ah, yes, but...well, the Occupation is over. It ended five years ago.

Ellet: What? The Cardassians are...gone?

Bashir: Yes.

Ellet: Do you have proof? For all I know you are a Cardassian agent.

Bashir: Ah...well, no, actually. I was boating with a friend and we capsized. Most of my supplies and communicator were lost. I assume you’ve not seen my friend?

Ellet: You’re the first stranger I’ve seen today.

Bashir: Do you...live near here? Are there many others? Could anyone else have…

Ellet: I cannot trust you with any of that without knowing who you are.

Bashir: I’m Doctor Julian Bashir, from Starfleet. I’m not entirely sure how to prove that, however.

Ellet: Hm. Hands behind your head. I’m going to approach you.

Bashir: Alright.

[Ellet stalks towards Bashir, looks sternly at him. Their eyes lock. He tries a little grin. She suddenly reaches up with the unused arrow and slashes his cheek. He flinches and gasps, and she wipes at the blood with a fingertip]

Ellet: Red. The Cardassians may be able plastic surgeons but even they cannot change blood color.

Bashir: I suppose not.

Ellet: Alright, fine. Drop your arms. Come with me. Tell me what has been happening…

[We see Bashir and Ellet walking into the woods. We are clearly seeing from someone’s Point of View, partially obscured by branches and leaves. There is heavy breathing...commercial break! Oh boy, 90s shit! Vote for Bob Dole! Buy a pager! That Ford Taurus sure is a sexy fuck! AND WE’RE BACK! A small, Bajoran village. There’s no sign of any tech, the homes are simple, aging wooden structures. People do old-timey shit. Bashir and Ellet approach]

Bashir: ...so Winn withdrew her candidacy. Shakaar won the position of First Minister very handily after that.

Ellet: Amazing. A free Bajor. I can’t believe it. I want to.

Bashir: What, my injury isn’t enough proof that I am who I say I am?

Ellet: Plenty of species have red blood, even mine. You could be a collaborator who had his nose shaved down.

Bashir: It would be easier and less traumatic to fill the ridges in, actually. Speaking as a physician. More easily reversed, as well.

Ellet: Which is why the Cardassians would shave it down. Probably without anesthesia.

Bashir: Ah, well…

Pold: Ellet! Ellet come quick!

[a teenage boy rushes up to Ellet and Bashir, barely giving a second glance to the stranger]

Ellet: Pold! What is it?

Pold: It’s Elder Caso! He collapsed!

Bashir: Where is he? I don’t have my full kit, but…

Ellet: Follow me!

[Interior of one of the houses; an old man lays in a bed, his breathing strained and raspy. Other Bajorans stand nearby looking worried. A middle-aged woman, Calra, leans over him, listening to his heart with something that is recognizably a stethoscope. Bashir and Ellet rush in]

Calra: Ellet, who...

Ellet: He’s a Doctor, from Starfleet.

Calra: Starfleet? What…

Bashir: I’ll explain everything in time, but first…

[Bashir kneels next to Calra and pulls his tricorder from his kit. He flips it open and it lets out a somewhat-sickly version of it usual beeps]

Bashir: Damn…

Ellet: What’s wrong?

Bashir: The power supply was damaged. [noting the stethoscope] Did you get a chance to use that?

Calra: Yes. His heartbeat is badly irregular.

Bashir: Does he have any allergies you know of?

Calra: Some hay fever, nothing else.

Bashir: Cordrazine, then. [pulls out a small case from his kit, flips it open to reveal some phials. Pulls one out] Thank goodness, it’s intact. But I haven’t a hypospray. Do you have a syringe or anything?

Calra: Yes. Ellet, over there…

[Calra points and Ellet vanishes for a moment, before reappearing with a tray of needles. Bashir picks one up and glances momentarily at the Bajoran writing]

Bashir: What line is...ah...damn, what’s the Bajoran equivalent of ccs. Ah...right, right! Which one would be half a dectol?

Calra: There.

[Bashir twists the top off the phial and sticks the needle in, slowly pulling the plunger back. He delicately hands the phial to Calra, then starts tapping Pold’s arm]

Bashir: Haven’t had to find a vein since medical school…

[He nods, satisfied, and plunges the needle into the old man’s arm. He picks up the stethoscope, puts it on, and presses the diaphragm to the elder’s chest]

Bashir: He’s stabilizing...good. I suppose it’s too much to hope for that you have IV bags?

Calra: You’re lucky we have syringes.

Bashir: Alright, make sure he stays hydrated. More so than you might think is necessary. Someone should be watching him at all times. Check his heartbeat every hour. If it gets irregular again, a quarter dectol of this. If his breathing becomes rapid at any time try chest compressions. If that doesn’t work get me. [beat] Real, frontier medicine. I knew a young fool who romanticized this stuff…

Caso: Ellet…

Ellet: Father!

Caso: Who...is this?

Ellet: He’s Doctor Bashir, father. He’s from Starfleet. The occupation is over, Father. Bajor is free.

[Exterior, night. We are again watching from an unknown figure’s PoV. We can just make out Bashir sitting with Caso, Ellet, Calra and others by a large fire. Someone hands him a bowl. Switches to the side of the fire as he eats]

Bashir: This is excellent. And you’ve raised or hunted all of this yourselves?

Ellet: It’s what we’ve done since I was born.

Caso: We have been on our own for almost four decades. I was a child when the occupation began. My memories of a free Bajor are...a fog, at best. I can somewhat remember the quiet meetings in my parent’s home. The early days of the Resistance, though I didn’t understand that at the time. I was barely a teenager when we set up our first camp to begin striking at a Cardassian shipping port.

Bashir: So what happened? Resistance camps didn’t tend to become permanent emplacements.

Caso: We had moved here for a major strike planned with another cell. I can’t remember what the target was. Almost every single adult went. Many of the teenagers. I wanted to go, but they said I was just too young. If I’d not been recovering from a sprained ankle they may have taken me. I’m not sure. [pause] No one came back from the mission. We waited for days. Weeks. Before long we began to be sure the Cardassians would arrive and destroy us. But we were mostly children, we didn’t know how best to pull up stakes and resettle. We didn’t know how to contact other cells. We didn’t even know if we were near civilization. After a few months, we realized we were on our own. And...well, we made do.

Bashir: I’d say you’ve thrived. You’ve remained undiscovered and self-sufficient for almost forty years. That’s astounding!

Caso: Yes. But now...now we can rejoin Bajor. A Bajor free of Cardassians. I still scarcely believe it. [beat] I do not mean to seem ungrateful to my savior but...well, have we simply replaced Cardassians with Federation troops?

Bashir: No, no not at all! No, we’re all on a space station. There’s no permanent on-planet presence.

Caso: But your commander is the Emissary?

Bashir: Yes. But he’s a Starfleet officer first. He hasn’t abused his position as Emissary to try and force the issue

Calra: Starfleet is famously hands-off.

Bashir: We try to be. First and foremost we consider ourselves explorers. We’re ambassadors of the Federation, we don’t exist to strongarm anyone into joining.

Calra: Tho you certainly have military might.

Bashir: An unfortunate necessity when not everyone shares our ideals.

Calra: Yes. Like the Klingons. Orion Pirates. Cardassians?

Bashir: Right…

Caso: Calra…

Calra: Tell me, Doctor, when is non-interference just willful ignorance?

Bashir: Sorry?

Caso: Calra, he’s barely older than Ellet, he had nothing to do with…

Calra: Oh, I’m sure they’re making some similar decision now, though. Right, Doctor? What atrocity is your Federation turning a blind eye to now?

Ellet: Calra, come now…

Bashir: No. No, she’s not wrong. The Federation. Starfleet. We let a lot happen in the name of The Prime Directive. I can’t disagree. We don’t live up to our own ideals sometimes. And that’s because we’re flawed. [beat] But that’s the root of it. The Federation has had its brushes with failing itself even more drastically than that. So we stop the Cardassian occupation. Then we get asked to help another culture. Then another. And another. Then one day we don’t get asked but just show up. Then we show up again. And again. And then, suddenly, we’re taking over Bajor instead of the Cardassians. The line is fine. Too fine. And I have yet to meet anyone who I would trust to see it.

Calra: And what do you think about Bajor joining the Federation willingly? Since that is how you see the overture now.

Bashir: Honestly? I don’t know. On the one hand, the Federation has plenty to offer. On the other hand, Bajor is still trying to figure itself out after having its own culture nearly eradicated. But then there is the issue of the worm...Celestial Temple. Bajor is now the most important planet in the Alpha quadrant, which means it could also be a target for countless people.

Calra: You seem to have trouble committing to ideas.

Bashir: I’m a doctor, not a diplomat. My choices are much simpler. If someone is in need of medical help, I provide it. I leave diplomacy to better people than myself.

Caso: Well I, for one, am grateful a Doctor arrived instead of a diplomat. Now, come! No more interrogating Doctor Bashir! Let’s enjoy ourselves, and in the morning we shall send out parties to try and find his friend!

[The spooky PoV shot again. Heavy breathing. WOOOOOO, what could it be?! MOTHERFUCKING COMMERCIAL TIME! It’s a trailer for Twister, fuck did you see that cow?!  It’s the “great googly moogly” Snickers ad! Oh shit they made the Game Boy smaller! BACK TO THE SHOW, HONKIES!

Day, Julian walking through the woods with Ellet]

Bashir: So, are you looking forward to seeing the sites of your homeworld?

Ellet: I...suppose? My whole life has been stories of Bajor. For me, Bajor has just been my village and a few square miles of woodland. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Bashir: Well, the capital has some stunning architecture. The Bajoran Gallery has already managed to rebuild much of its collections. I’d be more than happy to show you around.

Ellet: That could be…

[suddenly, a large rock whizzes past their faces and they both duck down into the brush]

Bashir: What the hell?!

Ellet: Come on! There’s not enough cover here.

Bashir: This way!

[the two start running towards a large boulder near a tree line, Bashir slightly ahead. Suddenly there’s the noise of bending wood and straining rope]

Bashir: WHOA!

[Bashir is now danging upside-down, one of his feet caught in a makeshift rope hanging from a branch. Ellet dives behind the boulder]

Bashir: Ellet, what’s going on?! Is this normal?!

Ellet: No! I have no idea what…

[Another rock spirals in and Ellet dives behind the boulder. It bounces off and barely misses Julian’s head Ellet nocks an arrow and glances over the boulder]

Ellet: Where are you…?

Bashir: Could you get me down maybe?

Ellet: Shh!

Chief: [from a distance] You damn Cardie bastards! You let him go!

Ellet: What?!

Bashir: Chief?! Chief! What are you talking about?!

[The Chief is standing in a shadowy area, having gone full Apocalypse Now. His shirt is gone and he’s covered in mud from waist to face as makeshift camouflage. He holds a homemade sling and a rock. His face is hard]

Chief: It’s alright, Julian! I’ll free you from those bastards before they can scream at you about lights!

Bashir: Ellet, please. That’s my missing friend! Something’s clearly wrong with him!

Ellet: So I can’t kill him.

Bashir: Afraid not.

Ellet: Great.

Bashir: Sorry. If you could get me down I could help…okay.

[Ellet has already launched herself over the boulder and started charging towards the Chief. She barely ducks a stone, which ends up hitting Julian in the gut, making him give out a little oof. The Chief loads another stone, but Ellet shoots an arrow that cuts the handle. Time for a motherfucking fight! Chief goes all Classic Starfleet double-hand punches and Kirk-chops. It’s...well, you know. It’s a “Trek” fight. Then Ellet manages to crack him one across the chin with her bow and he goes down. Before he can get up she puts a foot on his chest and has an arrow drawn and near his face]

Ellet: Calm yourself, Chief. No one wishes to hurt you or the Doctor…

[the interior of DS9’s infirmary. O’Brien, in uniform, lays on a diagnostic table while Julian scans him]

Bashir: So my best guess is that spring you said you found had been tainted by spores from some nearby bitari mushrooms. Calra explained them to me. For a Bajoran they can cause rather pleasant hallucinations. Humans, it would seem, not so much.

O’Brien: I swear, they all looked like Cardassians. It was like I was back in the war. Thank goodness I didn’t hurt anyone.

Bashir: You bruised one of my ribs, actually.

O’Brien: Well, being fair, I wasn’t aiming for you. Still, I’ll get you your next pint to make it up to you. Quark’s?

Bashir: I’m going to need a rain check. I’m acting as an ambassador today.

[Ellet walks in, dressed in modern Bajoran clothing]

Ellet: Doctor?

Bashir: Ah! Ellet! I’ll be right with you! A Vulcan survey ship is due back from the Gamma Quadrant in twenty minutes, so we’ll start with a docking pylon! They have the best view!

Ellet: I’m looking forward to it.

[She exits]

Bashir: Right, well. You’re officially released, Chief. You should be all set. If anything seems off just come back here straightaway.

[Julian exits]

O’Brien: Horny prick.

[THE END! END CREDITS!]

Majel Barrett: Next time on “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine”

Sisko: Why is my razor so stupid?!

Dax: Benjamin, Kai Winn is here to see you.

Kai Winn: [incoherent screeching]

[scene change!]

Bashir: Goddamn it, so itchy…

O’Brien: I really didn’t need to know that, Julian.

[scene change!]

Dax: Kira, you’ve got a message coming in from Gul Dukat.

Kira: Ugh. Put him through.

Gul Dukat: Ah, Major Kira…

Kira: I swear to God if this is another thinly-veiled attempt at hitting on me I will cut of your balls and feed them to your pet vole.

THE END!

Stay tuned for whatever bullshit was on your local station in 1996 after DS9!

—

Check out Caitlin, Ames, and Jake’s stories for more Tales from the Holodeck! Also, be sure to keep listening on SoundCloud, follow us on Facebook and Twitter, and don’t drink the tainted spore water!

[impalaanddemons]

Good Girl!

Summary: Werewolf!Reader Story. Readers a young doctor and uses her skills to keep her condition hidden, until she transfers to the Enterprise and tries to deceive a certain grumpy Doctor

Bones x Reader

Wordcount: 1142

A/N: I used to write all the werewolf stories in all variants as a teenager. I always liked to go for the “dirty” kinda “yeah, i’m a thing, no, i don’t lose control, but it does come with it’s shortcomings” werewolf ... I’ll expand on what it all means for our lovely Y/N while writing this. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do - please let me know what you think!

This fiction is set in AOS

Warnings: None, really

PART 1

„Lieutenant Y/L/N“, you said, handing over your PADD to the dark haired CMO. His eyes traced you shortly, then he grabbed your PADD, filing through it for a moment, and nodded. „Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. I’ll show you and our new nurses your quarters right away.“ He gave you your PADD back and started walking. For a lack of alternatives you trailed behind him. Not that he had prompted you to do so, but you got the undeniable feeling that he didn’t expect to have to. „You will be assigned to Beta Shift, as you’re a doctor, and we need one there“ he continued while striding through the Enterprise. „Medbay’s here. I’ll show you everything later. Nurse Wildner, Morgan, follow me.“ - you could tell the Doctor was the ‚no bullshit‘-type just by the look of him. He moved efficiently with some kind of permanent frown fixated on his face. You had heard of him of course. The famous Doctor McCoy, best friend to the even more famous Captain Kirk. The famous Enterprise. After you had left Starfleet Academy you had served three years on the USS Washington as an Assistant Doctor. You had applied to a position on the Enterprise just recently and it came as a surprise to you that you were not only considered but chosen. 

„… you better remember the way to your quarters, otherwise you’ll have to rely on the floor map on your PADDs. I’ll not send people to fetch you because you forgot the way.“ you took a turn and changed floors. „We’re spread thin on supplies and personnel as it is, who would need those on a 5 year trip, anyway.“, he scowled, then stretched his arm out: „Right side - first door, Wildner; second door, Morgan; last door Y/L/N. There’s a replicator with standard settings, makes decent enough coffee, you’ll need it.“ For a second his eyes glanced over to his PADD, then he focused on his new team members again. „I’ll have you all report in for a routine checkup at Beta shift in 3 hours.“ - at that you fidgeted slightly. „Is there a problem, Y/L/N?“, he asked briskly. This mans gaze was intense. Your heart was pounding in your chest.. And since he was so close you could hear his heart pounding alike, slower then yours. The two nurses heartbeat was a faint throbbing in the distance. But you would never allow him or anyone else to know that. Know what you knew. Know what you felt. Know about you. What you were. Different. „Transfer personnel already took my medical exam before arriving, I can forward you the data right away“ - the frown on his face intensified. „I am sorry, Doctor McCoy, if this is not standard procedure. I expected it to be, since …“ - „Alright, alright.“, he grumbled, „I’ll have a look at the data, just be there on Beta Shift. Get settled, everyone.“ and with that he turned around and was gone, leaving you and your new crew mates alone. You were off to a good start with your new superior officer.

„Well… uhm…I’ll have a look at my room and … see you later?“ you managed a half grin. As the door of your room finally closed behind you a few minutes and half-hearted niceties later, you felt the weight of a mountain fall off your shoulders. Your first two hours on the Enterprise and you realized that this would be no walk in the park. Your CMO on the USS Washington had been more laid back - it was easy to manipulate your data, wriggle out of medical checkups and deceive your superiors just enough to blend in. It wouldn’t be that easy on the Enterprise, although you got away this time. Hopefully. Walking across your room, you noticed that your things had already been brought in. You opened your bags and filed through your stuff. Casual clothes, Uniform, a couple of books on radiation, general astronomy and alien linguistics, your favorite book about old world monsters. At the bottom you found a couple of unused hypos, your own little stash. No tranquilizers, though. There was no way you could’ve smuggled them in without risking to raise at least some concerns, so you would have to snatch some on your first shift when Doctor McCoy was away. Your ears twitched, but despite the shuffling of our neighbors left and right, the soft murmur of voices and the Enterprise herself it was relatively silent. You sighed. It was not like you wanted to be sedated half your life, but whenever another doctor decided to check your vitals your heart rate and blood pressure had to line up with what was regarded as normal for a healthy young woman of your age. Due to your peculiar situation, your vitals were anything but that. So you had tried everything: Meditation worked, but only if you could prepare for an upcoming examination and if you could keep your mind at ease for the whole procedure. This had once led to you getting a prescription for antihypertensives in your first year at academy. It had taken ages to get that off your record. Breathing techniques could work in a pinch, with a healthy dose of distraction and lies on top. Tranquilizers worked best so far - it took about three times the dose for a 90kg man to take you out, one would bring your vitals down far enough to pass the occasional, unavoidable test. They had been your standard equipment since Academy, you always had a hypo on your person. You felt naked without it. There were other effects, of course, that were more difficult to keep at bay. Some more, some less useful: Your hearing and sense of smell were unmatched, but by a few alien races. This had come in handy when working as a doctor. You were sadly not much stronger then a regular person, but your reflexes were good - so good, in fact, that you could’ve gone for it and become a pilot.

And then there was the change. While able to force it by sheer willpower, there were also times were you couldn’t fight it back. It was weird, it was painful and you had tried everything in your medical repertoire to cut it back as much at possible. Being on a radiation shielded starship, for example, already helped. The regular use of tranquilizers helped too. When you got your transfer orders, you had just started mixing up a new cocktail of tranqs and hormone stabilizers. You could keep it down to once every two months, but it was easier to go for once a month and just sleep it out in your room, curled up under the bed. How cliché.

Everything considered you had done well so far in your life. But deceiving Doctor McCoy would prove the biggest challenge you’d faced so far.

READ ON

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