Showing posts with label Sp/Mc. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sp/Mc. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 10, 2015


NEW: Bridge Crew 1/1 (TOS: S/M, Sc, C, f) [G]

Title: Bridge Crew
Author: Artemis (ArtemisOK@aol.com)
Series: TOS
Codes: S/M, Sc, C, f
Rating: [G]
Parts: 1/1
Summary:  My Nimoy - Spock tribute with cats!
Disclaimer: CBS-Paramount owns Star Trek. No infringement intended, no money being made.
Feedback: Will write for feedback
Beta:  Thank you Sally for the beta. All mistakes are my own.
Author's Note: I want to be reincarnated as a rich lady’s cat.
Archiving: ASC, ASCEML THFFF, and The Spock/McCoyote’s Den All others please ask.

BRIDGE CREW

Spock woke up looking into two deep blue eyes.

McCoy smiled also and purred “I’m glad  you’re finally with us, Spock.”

Purred? Spock studied McCoy’s face. The blue eyes were in a cream-colored furry face with brown ears and a ruff of shaggy fur around his neck.  Spock reached up with his paw, paw!?  It was covered in black glossy, silky fur. “Doctor” he whispered. “Are we cats?”

A large, grey Scottish Fold tom head butted him playfully and replied; “Aye, Mr. Spock. That we are.” He inclined his head to the right. “Come and see the water fountain. I’ve got running just fine, nice and cool and fresh.”

He ran away to met with two lady cats. Both were tabbies with the classic M marking on their foreheads. One was a dainty gold and white kitty with a sweet face. She wore a blue collar and ran to help Scotty. The other was slightly larger. She was brown and gray stripped with gold chest and feet.  She lounged coolly, but alert and winked at Mr. Spock.

Leonard push with his shoulder and helped Spock sit up. “Yes, we are. That’s Christine and Margot. Margot said she was an old friend of yours.”

Spock’s ears perked up. Margot -- Number One, he never thought he would see her again.

He caught his reflection in a mirror of the grooming station. He was a large, solid black tom. Slim and elegant with short, silky fur and finely pointed ears.

He got to his feet and with Leonard padding at his side, he explored the main room.  There were perches and ramps to climb. All manner of cat condos to explore. Toys and tunnels, puzzles and playthings galore.

McCoy sprang up onto the window seat and Spock joined him. They looked out over a garden that reminded Spock of his mother’s garden back home. They tucked their legs under their bodies and settled into a patch of warm sunlight to watch the rainbow arch across the sky.

He turned to McCoy. “Doctor, I am glad to be with all of you again, however I am concerned.” He cocked his head. “The average life of felis catus is fifteen years. I do not want to loose you again.”

“Don’t worry, Spock. This is our forever home.”

To Be Continued….

TOSHET ENDING


He turned to McCoy. “Doctor, I am glad to be with all of you again, however I am concerned.” He cocked his head. “The average life of felis catus is fifteen years and… I want to stay here.”

“Don’t worry, Spock. This is our forever home.”

To Be Continued….






Friday, April 4, 2014

OPERATION: Spock’s Brain

The Enterprise Sickbay was thick with tension. Nurse Christine Chapel stood on the left of a bio-bed while Doctor Leonard McCoy stood on the right. 

In between them, Commander Spock was  lying still as death on that particular bio-bed, with a glimmering gold bandage around his head and life-support equipment covering his torso. Beyond the shell, his legs protruded draped in a surgical green sheet. 

Doctor McCoy monitored the instruments over Spock’s head. “Now.” he said. 

Nurse Chapel flipped a switch on the life support unit. “Functioning.” she reported.

“Thank God.”  the doctor said fervently. 

Captain Kirk and Commander Scott entered and took in the scene. 

“Spock. What happened?”  Kirk demanded. 

Chapel explained; “I found him on the table.”

“Like this?” Kirk asked.

“No, not like this.” McCoy answered. 

“What happened?” 

McCoy replied.  “I don't know.”

“You've got him on complete life support. Was he dead?” Jim prompted.

“He was worse than dead.”

“What do you mean?” Jim thought “as in a fate worse than death?”

“Jim.”  McCoy tried to find the words. 

 “Come on, Bones. What's the mystery?”  Kirk was losing patience. 

“His brain is gone.”  McCoy managed to get out. 

“His what?”  Kirk was stunned. 

Doctor McCoy explained.  “It's been removed surgically.”

“How could he survive?”  Good question, Jim.

“It's the greatest technical job I've ever seen. Every nerve ending in the brain must've been neatly sealed. Nothing ripped, nothing torn, no bleeding. It's a medical miracle.” McCoy smiled in spite of himself.

“If his brain is missing, then Spock is dying.” Kirk is a starship captain, not a doctor.

“No. That incredible Vulcan physique hung on until the life-support cycle took over. His body lives. The autonomic functions continue. But there is no mind.” Inwardly, Len shuddered. 

Kirk exclaimed. “That girl.”  

“Aye.” Mr. Scott agreed.

“What girl?”  McCoy wondered.

“From that ship.” Kirk explained. “She took it. I don't know why, or where, but she must have taken it. Bones, how long can you keep him functioning?”

McCoy wrung his hands in worry.  “I can't give you any guarantee.”

“That's not good enough, Doctor.” Kirk snapped. 

“If it happened to any of us, I'd say indefinitely. But Vulcan physiology limits what I can do. Spock's body is more dependent on that tremendous brain for life support.”

“Then we'll take him with us.” Jim stated, like that was obvious.

“Take him? Take him where?” McCoy thought, Spock’s brain is gone and Jim’s outta his mind.

“In search of his brain, Doctor. From what you say, the moment we find it we must restore it to his body, or we lose him.”

“Jim, where are you going to look? In this whole galaxy, where are you going to look for Spock's brain? How are you going to find it?”

“I'll find it.” Quiet determination hummed in the very fiber of Kirk’s being. 

“Even if you do, I can't restore it. I don't have the medical technique.” 

“It was taken out. It can be put back in.”

“But I don't know how.” McCoy was emphatic.

“The thief that took it has the knowledge. I'll force it out of her.” 

“If you don't find it in twenty four hours, you'd better forget the whole thing, Jim.” Len warned.

“You and Scotty have Spock ready.” The captain left, sure in the knowledge that his men could pull off this miracle. 

“What the hell?!” Nurse Chapel exclaimed.

“That Chrissie, was a desperate man. James T. Kirk hates to loose. Up on the bridge, that bonnie lassie in the wee dress not only knocked the entire crew unconscious but took out Mr. Spock’s brain and carted him up here fer ye to find.” Scotty shook his head in disgust. “She made us look like fools.”

“It more than that Scotty.” McCoy said. “Spock is Jim’s best friend.  That femme fatale not only put out all our lights, but she  ….” Bones couldn’t finish. He just swept his hand at Spock’s supine form.  Running a hand through his hair, he wondered; “How in the hell do I get his brain back in that noggin?”

“One step at a time, Doctor. We’re working on a dead line. Jimmy expects Mr. Spock’s body mobile by the time we catch up with that lassie.”

Nurse Chapel quietly fixed a screen around them. Crew members who were injured when they were knocked unconscious began limping in. Med Tech First Class Mendoza began triage and Nurse Chapel called additional Sick Bay personnel, including Doctor Geoffrey M’Benga to Sickbay.  Chris briefed Geoff as soon as he came in.  

Behind the screen the Chief Engineer and Chief Medical Officer put their heads together, oblivious to the ebb and flow of Enterprise personnel just outside. 

“Mobile? That’s a tall order, Scott. Our first order of business is to figure out how to make the overhead readouts and bio-bed portable.” McCoy concentrated on the overhead. 
“I reckon I could rig a medical tri-corder could read his vitals, then we might be able to move him onto a hover-stretcher with the life support array sharing power with the stretcher.”

“Aye, that’s a good start, but a stretcher is nay vera agile, Doctor. Surely, a hover chair or wheel chair would be more compact?”

“And just how do we get all this on a  ‘chair?” Bones gestured at the mechanism spanning the bed. 

“Do we really need ‘all’ of this?  If ye can take readings with yer tri-corder, then maybe the control panel can be moved into a hand-held device with it’s own power supply.”

“A remote-controlled Vulcan?” Bones chuckled briefly. “Then the actual life support could be reduced to something the size of a belt or helmet if it still shares power with the ‘chair.”

A gleam of inspiration lit Scotty’s eyes. He pulled out a stylus and started drawing on the sheet draped across Spock’s legs.  “Och, this is nay gud! I need ma Padd!”

“Here you go, sir.” A slim blond man with a sparse mustache in an Engineer’s uniform stepped through the screen. 

“Thank you, Roberts.” Scott did a double take. “Mr. Roberts, what are ye doin’ here?”

“Waiting to give you, and Doctor McCoy, your Padds. And to let you know that everyone who isn’t devoted to finding the mystery lady,  is awaiting your commands.”

“Anticipating, more like.” Bones quipped.

  Chris came in bearing a tray of coffee and sandwiches. “That’s what a good scrub nurse does, Doctor. Would you like to eat these here, or would you be more comfortable in your office?”

“In my office, where my computer is? Where my desk is? And where the chairs are? What’d think Scotty, How’s about we sit down and get settled in?

Chris waved a cup of coffee under Scotty’s nose. He took a big sniff. “I reckon pur Mr. Spock is na’ going anywhere. Lead on, lassie, and I’ll follow.”

“Sorry, I’ve got to stay here and keep an eye on Mr. Spock. I think our good doctor can find the way to his own office.”

The good doctor snatched the tray from Chris and muttered a few choice words under his breath. 

Two hours later, the office was strewn with cast off parts from the spare life support mechanism, a hover-chair, and two of Mr. Chekov’s’ remote-control starships.  The back wall was covered in schematics. Their proto-type was ready. Doctor McCoy called Captain Kirk. 

Kirk raced down to Sick bay to be greeted by the sight of Mendoza advancing towards him  strapped into the ‘chair with a six-inch wide bio-belt around his waist attached to a coronet of wires and blinking lights across his glossy black hair.  As Kirk advanced deeper into Sick Bay, the ‘chair retreated back to McCoy’s office.  McCoy looked up from his remote and grinned.

Kirk’s face was dark with rage. “What the hell is that!?  Spock’s life is in danger and you spent the last three hours playing R2-D2?” Kirk turned on the med tech.  “Crewman Mendoza, drop the act and stop zipping that ‘chair around.” Mendoza shrugged. “Crewman Mendoza! Come to attention when you are address by a superior officer!”

“For God’s sake, Jim. Med Tech Mendoza isn’t driving the ‘chair. I am.” Snapped Bones. “You wanted Spock to be mobile.  Well, here it the answer.” He thrust the controls into Kirk’s hands. “These buttons move the ‘chair. These buttons control the miniaturized life support system on the belt.” He pointed to the buttons as he spoke. “We made leading edge advances with trailing edge technology; anywhere else ol’ Scotty and me would be receiving Noble prizes, but all you do hand us is a load of crap.” 

Jim took a breath. “Okay not bad for a couple of hours work, I guess.” he conceded. “Still why is your Med Tech sitting there instead of Spock?”

“Mendoza is Spock’s stand-in. We didn’t want to risk Spock on a proto-type. Mendoza is about the same weight and height, so we know the chair is stable with 195 pounds of Star Fleet’s finest ‘zipping’ around in it.” McCoy explained.  “The bio-belt and crown are crude, but they actually work.  Scott and Tyler working miniature miracles in minutes.” 

A short brunette man in a Science uniform said: “Excuse me, Doctor. Mendoza wants out of the chair.”  Mendoza was struggling to extract himself from the bindings. 

“I’m on it.” Chapel said.

For the first time, Kirk really saw Lt. Tyler. “Why are you here? You’re Science. I left Bones and Scotty in charge.”

Tyler swallowed nervously, but met his captain’s eye. “Mr. Spock is my boss -- Head of the Science Department. As it happens that scientists, physicists in particular, are good at solving this kind of problem, sir.“ He added.  “The whole crew would do anything for Mr. Spock.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Jim smiled at Lt. Tyler. “Thank you. Carry on.”

Kirk yawned and scrubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “Now, Bones….”

McCoy put his hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “Jim, I’m gonna have a power nap. I recommend you do the same.”

“How can  you sleep at a time like this?”

“Because we’ve both been up for about 20 hours. I’m just an ol’  country doctor and I’m as tired as the proverbial ox. Tired people make mistakes, Jim.”

“I, I can’t just go to my quarters and sack out while Spock is…..” Jim shook his head. 

McCoy gave a tired smile, “Then lay down here. We’ve set up a bunk room. It’s dark and quiet. A 20 minute power nap followed by a shower and a real meal - Just what the doctor ordered.” 

30 minutes later, Jim and Bones eating to their steak and eggs when they heard a holler and a crash from Spock’s room. 

They raced in to find Mendoza strapped into an exoskeleton comprised of carbon fiber struts with joints scavenged from a scutter. The bio-belt and coronet were woven into this bizarre body suit. 

Tyler pressed a button on the key pad and poor Mendoza slammed into the wall, again. 

“Watch where I’m going, idioto!” Menny exclaimed. 

Tyler didn’t look up. “I’ll get it right this time.” he said and stabbed a button on the pad. 

Mendoza did an abrupt about face. Too abrupt, his left leg didn’t keep up with the right and Menny collapsed, cursing to the deck. He fought the skeleton, sat up and rolled up his pant leg so he could remove his prosthetic left leg.  

The med tech looked up at McCoy. “Boss, can’t you pick on someone else for a while. please? I don’t think the biomechanical inputs work on an artificial limb.” He shrugged embarrassed. 

McCoy ran his tricorder over Mendoza. “Son, y’all had been better off with out your prosthesis. The skeleton coulda took up the weight and let ya walk. Greg, get him outta that contraption and make sure he’s okay. Tyler, you’ll be the next volunteer.”

“But…” ’Tiny’ Tyler began.

“But nothing.” Kirk finished. “Scotty and Bones can make the adjustments and you can be the crash test dummy.” He turned to Mr. Scott. “We do have more parts?”

“Aye, sir. We can scuttle the scutters.” 

“Very good, Mr. Scott.” Jim hated the scutters; sneaky little service robots scuttling around his ship, up to who knows what. “Scott, how did you create that skeleton in 30 minutes?” 

“Ah, weel, sair.  The exoskeleton was plan A, ya ken. The ‘chair was plan B, being easier to patch together and having it own power pack. We knew ye’d be wanting pur Mr. Spock at be up and walking aboot….”

“Like a zombie.” Bones growled. “I hate zombies.”

“So we went ahead with both plans as they didna interfere w’ each other.” He smiled smugly. 

“Very good, carry on.”  Jim left sick bay with the feeling that the impossible had been downgraded to the improbable.

Scotty sagged as the door closed. “And noo the hard part, micro circuitry for fine motor skills.”

Doctor McCoy put his hand on the engineer’s shoulder. “We’ve got that. M’Benga and I will get that done while Roberts and Tyler refine the exoskeleton. It’s got to look as natural as possible.” Scotty started to object. “Go on, rest and refuel. Greg is our Vulcan expert. Neither you nor I know how to wire this jimmy-rigged system to Spock better than he can.”

“All right.” Scotty yawned. “Wake me if ye need me.”

Now, as it happened Dr. McCoy held a paten or two in that area of  medical technology to connecting biomechanics to the human nervous system. Dr. M’Benga provided the Vulcan expertise. Quietly, intently, the medical team plowed ahead setting up the transceivers and receivers while the Engineering/Science team refined the exoskeleton down to what was essentially a body suit. The coronet of wires compressed into an open sided helmet.  They were ready to connect their masterpiece to their Executive Officer. 

Nurse Chapel just finished setting up the last camera as they rolled Mr. Spock into the operating bay.  As Doctor McCoy had said earlier not only was this an historic moment for medicine, engineering and the Enterprise, but when, when they got ol’ Spock’s brain back where it belonged, they would have to remove all the hardware and would need the video for reference.  

Doctor McCoy started with subcutaneous processors that would allow Spock (or his operator) to use his hands.  Jim had not asked for this, but it was implied.  Then Scotty and Bones slipped the body into its body suit and carefully placed the helmet. One-by-one life support functions were transferred from the console to the helmet.  There was an anxious moment went the heart rate was too slow, but a quick adjustment from “Mendoza” normal to “Spock” normal set that straight. 

“One last connection,” Bones rasped.

With a click that wasn’t so much heard as felt, Spock’s full life support and functions were now transferred on the devices his friends began only 16 hours ago.  They held their collective breaths as they watched  him breath. Their eyes flickered from his prostrate form to the tell-tales.  

“Alive, alive!” Wild-eyed and bordering on the hysterical Leonard clasped his hands. “He Is Alive!” The good doctor snatched up the control pad. “Rise, rise my friend.” The brainless body rose to a sitting position on operating table. “Now, walk” A quick manipulation of the buttons and the vacant Vulcan took a few steps. Everyone cheered. 

“One last test.” Bones whispered, almost a prayer. Tap, tap, tap - Spock’s arm rose and he/it grasped a beaker and held it out to Mr. Scott. 

Scott took the beaker from his/its hand.  He sniffed the contents and smiled. “To your health.” He toasted Mr. Spock and knocked back a wee dram. 

Later, Leonard sat alone with Spock’s empty shell, waiting to arrive at their goal. He spoke aloud to Spock. 

“Here goes nothing.” Len laid his hand against Spock’s cheek. “Spock, I know you’re a touch telepath. I hope that even though your mind and body are light years apart, you know what we’re doing and that we’re coming for you.” Shyly, Len shifted his fingers to the Vulcan’s psy points. “Is there anything you want?” 

//Dignity//  McCoy wasn’t sure if he heard or imagined the answer. “Okay, so no Chicken Dance.”  He grinned at the thought, though. He looked down the prostrate form on the bed clad only in the ‘suit and helmet. “Ol’ buddy, you’re sure not dressed to impress. Let’s see what we can do, huh?”

Bones crossed to the repli-mat station and requisitioned off duty wear in Spock’s size.  //Boots and a jump suit, humph. Well that outta ‘bout cover the situation.//

Dressing the body was not as simple as Len thought it would be. He got it to stand and step in to boxers with only a wobble while lifting his feet. Socks were a snap, but the turtle-neck shirt stymied him. He was cussing and fussing when Nurse Chapel walked in.

“Need some help?” she asked.

“Bah, How do I get this shirt over that helmet?”  He held up the shirt.

Chris smothered a smile. “Why do you want to put Spock in a turtle neck?”

Bones gestured to the back of his own neck. “To hide the, the…”

“I get it.” She nodded. After a moment’s thought. “I’ll cut the shirt open enough to get it over his head and then sew him in it.”

“Spock won’t like that.”

“He can tell me himself.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’ll be right back.” Christine returned with a sewing kit from the depths of her locker.  In a few minutes, she had it wide enough to get safely on over the artificial brain.  Together doctor and nurse carefully put in on the shell of their crew mate.

‘Whew, and now the jumpsuit.”  McCoy picked it up and turned it around. “Now, how in tarnation….?”  Chris raised an eyebrow. “Spock couldn’t beam down in his jammys, and he’s not on duty, so I asked for civvies in his size.  This is what I got. It seemed alright in theory.”

“They will cover the exo-suit. The captain will be happy. Can he stand?”

“Yeah,” McCoy gestured to the boxers. “I didn’t diaper’em.”  With Chris’ help it wasn’t too hard to get Spock to step into the jump suit and then they pulled it up.  The boots should have been easy, but there was no button for “point your toes” One person manipulated the foot while the other shoved the boot on.  

“All done and now we dance!” Chris said with a cheery smile, spreading her arms wide. 

“There’s no button for that.”  Bones rumbled.

“Sure there is - hold down red while pressing blue, blue. And vìola, the Chicken Dance!” 

“Nurse Chapel, really!” the good doctor was aghast. //I promised no Chicken Dance.//

“No, sir, not really. That combination enables him to climb stairs.  Hold blue, red, red to descend - but he’ll need someone to steady him.”  

“Good thinking.” Len smiled and gave Chris a brief hug.  “We did it.  Let’s get back to bed and hooked up to the nutrition supplements.  Iffen I knows Jim Kirk, Robo-Spock is gonna need all the extra energy he can get.”

FIN



Wednesday, December 11, 2013

BOYS IN BLUE CHRISTMAS



Summary:  My recipe for a happy holiday with Spock & Bones

I want a Blue Christmas with you two.
I get so blue, when I’m without you.
Decorations of gold on a blue Starfleet sleeve
Fill all my dreams, dears, till you come home on leave.

CHORUS:
I want a blue Christmas, that’s certain.
No more hearts breaking and hurting.
No more comfort & hurt
No more argue & flirt
Oh, we’ll have a blue, boys in blue Christmas.

I want a blue Christmas with Bones McCoy
You know he’s my favourite toy boy
Blue eyes smiling at me, bright as the stars
So intoxicating, I have no need for bars

CHORUS:
I want a blue Christmas, you know it
And I know just how to show it
A little Romulan ale
Red-hots by the pail
Oh, we’ll have a blue, boys in blue Christmas.

I want a blue Christmas with my dear Spock
My FX will make your bridge rock.
Body long and lean in a shirt of blue velour
Hides a Vulcan heart beating. The one that I adore

CHORUS:
I want a blue Christmas, Yeah, that’s right.
I don’t want red, green or snow white
Merry Christmas to y’all
We’ll be having a ball
Oh, we’ll have a blue, boys in blue Christmas




Thursday, December 22, 2011

One Little Mistletoe Kiss Song

Kirk saw Spock kissing Leonard McCoy
Underneath the mistletoe last night
They didn’t see Jim creep
In the lab so he could speak
About the Sularian Land Snake
‘Cause Spock was grabbin’ Bones’ left cheek!

Then, Kirk saw Spock kissing Leonard McCoy
Press up against the bulkhead nice and tight!
What a scream it would have been
If Christen had only seen
Spock kissing Leonard McCoy last night!

…And to all a Good Night.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Thursday, December 2, 2010

BROKEN HALLELUJAH

I offer up this doggerel verse
To a cold uncaring universe
In hopes it will find it’s way to you
I loved baby from the very start
You boiling blood , your cold, Vulcan heart
Your warm eyes made me sing the Hallelujah!
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

I searched for a crack in your disguise
I found you strong, I found you wise
I found you could care and what duty meant to you
And when you played upon your lyre
Like that baffled king with his soul on fire
I smiled and softly whispered Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

We courted using argue and flirt
Then we moved on to comfort and hurt
And when we touched I knew you knew, too.
Our love was hotter than the stars
We kept it secret this love of ours
A private and a holy Hallelujah!
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

I thought I knew what love was about
But I wasn’t ready to come out
I thought you felt the same way, too, yeah
I said I’m not ready, no debate
You cried; I thought you were my soul mate.
You left. I wept a broken Hallelujah.
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Now I sing this lonesome song
Please come back, Darling I was wrong
I’m ready now to commit to you
But I’m too late, you ran to Gol
To purge your feeling one and all
There’s nothing left but this broken Hallelujah.
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Saturday, October 23, 2010

ZOMBIES IN SPACE!!!

It was lunchtime for the Alpha watch aboard the Starship Enterprise. Commander Spock and Doctor McCoy were having a private discussion concerning their burgeoning relationship.

"I'm sorry Spock. I know how much it offends you, but I won't - I can't give up eating meat." Leonard shook his head with a sad smile.

"Leonard, you should know as a physician that humans do not need to eat meat in order to survive. In fact, my mother has lived many productive, satisfied years as a vegetarian." The Vulcan countered.

"Yeah, yeah I know. Most folks are happy that way, but my metabolism is different." Len wagged an eyebrow. "It runs a little hot. I just need a some red meat once in a while."

"When" Spock quipped "under the full moon?"

McCoy opened his mouth to answer, when the red alert claxon sounded. Spock, McCoy and everyone else in break room three scrambled out the door to their duty stations or tried to; the corridor was blocked by the shambling walking corpses of several security officers who had died from a mysterious virus due to a poorly decontaminated shuttle.

"Back inside!" Spock ordered. In the rush to reenter the room , he didn't notice that McCoy was still out in the hall. He was busy opening an emergency phaser storage locker and handing out weapons.

Spock rushed to the comm panel on the wall and hit the button; "Spock to the Bridge. Captain Kirk, what is the situation?"

"Spock, where are you?" Kirk asked.

"We are pinned down in BR3. We have hand phasers."

"Good. Spock listen this is important. Set the phaser to full. You must disintegrate the …. Well for lack of a better word… zombies. Any lesser setting and they will only catch fire."

"Is that not effective, Captain?"

"Hell no! These things can't die and they don't feel pain. If you set them ablaze, then you have a flaming zombie coming after you." Kirk gave a wry chuckle. "Not an improvement really."

"You speak from experience."

"Yeah. And Mr. Chekov's idea of blasting their legs off didn't stop'em it only slowed them down." There was a loud thump audible over the speaker. "I gotta go. Good hunting and good luck. Kirk out."

Spock addressed the crew men with him. "All of you heard how to defeat these unfortunate creatures…."

"Creatures?!" Riley interjected. "They are our crewmates. That's Jeffry Combs and Ally Mitchell out there."

"A valid point, Mr. Riley. While Mr. Combs was one of the original stricken officers., Mr. Mitchell was alive and well this morning at shirt change. I suggest we proceed with caution. Phaser on full. We will attempt to reach Engineering and the Auxiliary Control."

Meanwhile, Doctor McCoy had his own problems. He has stepped out in corridor ahead of the group and was trapped out there. He ran to the right heading for the Biology Lab to warn the occupants and to use the contents of the lab to find a solution.
His long legs fairly flew down the hall ahead of the slow zombies. Len growled. He hated zombies. He was about ten feet away from the lab when he heard screams and he looked down a side passage; Nurses Chapel and Levi were cornered by a pair of late red shirts. He charged towards them. His growl became a full fledge roar as he leapt. His finger changing into claws, his mouth turning into furry steel-trap jaws as he soared. Landing his transformation complete; he attacked the zombies. He held on to a shred of humanity long enough to yell out "Run!"

Spock and his group broke to the left. The phasers were affective, but firing on full drained the batteries fast. Lt. Reynolds tossed her empty weapon aside and in desperation pulled the pin on a handy fire extinguisher. Whoosh! It enveloped the zombie in a cold of sub-zero gas. The zombie froze.

Spock noted this. "Good work. Lieutenant." he remarked as they raced to the Jefferies tube. "You have discovered another weakness. We will share this information with Mr. Scott when we reach Engineering."

They were nearly to their goal when the late Security Officer Black reached up from the deck and bit down on Med Tech Gonzales' leg. "Mother fucker!" He screamed. "Help! Get him off me!"

Spock dispatched the zombie. Then he turned to gun on Gonzales. "I'm truly sorry, but the contamination cannot be allowed to spread" He aimed his weapon at the unfortunate man.

"WAIT, WAIT!!" He pleaded as he pulled up his pants leg to reveal the mangled remains of his prosthetic leg.

Reynolds reached for the intercom by the door and the door slid open. They tumbled in and the door snapped shut. "I didn't know it could do that." She said in relief.
Scotty smiled. "I do have a few tricks up my sleeve."


"Such as knowing that we were outside?" Spock ventured.
"Aye, we have the tricorders we repaired in the Small Instrument Shop. With these beauties, tis easy enough to tell whose knockin' at our doors." He sighed. "I just wished I knew away to defeat the poor bastards."

Commander Spock described the fire extinguisher's affect. Scotty grinned.

"What is so amusing, Mr. Scott?"

"What is very cold, Mr. Spock?"

"Any number of things."

Scotty cut him off before the Vulcan began listing cold thing. "Space! Space is bloody cold."

"Yes, three Kelvin. That should be sufficient to immobilized our late comrades. We must contact the Captain."

"Agreed. Space them!" Kirk said, "but how can we do that? He slapped his palm on the arm of his command chair. "The shuttle bay, if we can get them in the bay, we can open the doors and out they go into the final frontier."

"But how can we get them there without putting ourselves in more danger?" Scotty asked.

M/T Gonzales raised his hand. Spock acknowledged him with a nod. "They can't tell living matter from artificial." He put his mangled leg up on the table where the Bridge crew could see it. "Chekov and Riley have remote controlled flyers."
"They are for piloting practice."

Riley explained. "And besides we can't get to them. They're in our quarters."

A slow smiled crept over Kirk's face. "What about the scutters?" he asked.
Scotty caught Spock's eye. Kirk hated robots, even dumb as dirt scrub computers modules -- the scutters. He sighed. He knew his newest toys were going to make the ultimate sacrifice. "Very good, Captain. Mr. Spock and I will set about programming the poor wee scutties, now."

In the end it turned out that the zombies would only chase the robots if they had crude mannequins in uniforms mounted on them. Ensign Chekov used the ship's internal sensors to find undead. Lt. Uhura coordinated with all sections to release the scutters and draw the zombies to the shuttle bay.

A tense hour of drag-stomp and whir later they were all there. Some zombies impaled on their unstoppable prey. From the observation booth, Kirk and Spock watched. "Fifteen, my god Spock. Fifteen of our crew turned into living dead."

"Thirty-two, actually, Captain. Only fifteen `survived' to make it here. In the course of defending ourselves we destroyed seventeen of them."

James T. Kirk nodded gravely. "Into the deep, we commit these bodies. Lord had mercy on their souls." With that he pushed the button and open doors.

Ponderously the great doors rolled open; star light, slowly illumining the great bay. As the air escaped, it screamed out the gap, growing fainter as the gap grew wider. All things in the area were drawn out with the screaming wind; loose tools, hidden bottles of contraband liquor, robots and zombies all rushed out to the deep, dark vastness of space.

Only after the doors were closed did Kirk and Spock realized that they didn't know where Doctor McCoy was. They called his name over the intercom and received no reply. Fearing the worst, they asked the computer for his location.

The computer informed that Doctor McCoy was on C deck, section 6. The friends hurried there. They rounded the corner and froze.

They were face to face with a canine-humanoid beast with steel-trap jaws, mottled brown on dirty yellow fur and blue eyes. It/he crouched there gnawing on the thigh of a decapitated zombie. The head had been torn from the body.

"Bones." Jim whispered in disbelief. His phaser trained on the cannibalistic creature.

"Doctor McCoy," Spock said levelly, "The crisis is past. We need our ship's physician now." He hoped that the call of duty would restore his lover's sanity.
It was that need and Spock's voice that brought Leonard back. He stood and gave a long laughing bark that chilled his listeners. As the echo faded he stood clad in the tattered remains of his gore stained uniform.

"Jim." he exclaimed in a husky voice. "Spock!" he tried to appeal to them both. "Let me explain."

Speechless, Kirk took a step back. He had a white knuckled grip on his gun.
The Vulcan sensed no danger from the -- what? He must know. Clamping down on his fear, he inquired lightly; "So you are a werewolf, after all, Doctor?"

"Naw, you green blooded hobgoblin, don't you know a were-hyena when you see one?" He tried to smile reassuringly. Realizing that his mouth was still bloody, he wiped it with his ragged sleeve.

"W, w, were, were, were-hyena!" Jim all but shrieked. "Good God, Bones. I thought I knew you." He fired hysterically. Bones moved slightly and the deadly beam scorched the bulkhead beside him.

"Tell ya what, Jim. Why don't we get away from this mess and let me change… ah, get cleaned up and I'll explain it to y'all."

"From the other side of a brig force field." Kirk snapped.

"If that's what makes you feel comfortable, then sure." Len tried to make reassuring gestures with his hands. Kirk stared at them and McCoy saw that they were red with zombie blood.

Spock volunteered to escort the good doctor back to his quarters and then to the brig. Kirk agreed.

Sonic-showered and pajama clad, Leonard H. McCoy sat calmly behind the security screen. He had refused to wear the blue jumpsuit, claiming it sawed into his family jewels. And as he could turn into a bone-crunching beast, Spock agreed to let him wear issue pajama's instead.

Leonard started; "I told you, Spock my metabolism is different and that I had to have red meat once in a while." He shrugged. "Dammit, Jim. I'm sorry. Look we all have some secrets."

"Some secrets" Jim snorted, "some secret!" Kirk laughed hysterically. "You're a ghoul. A human flesh eating, mighty morphing monster."

"Dead flesh eating." McCoy corrected him.

"Dead flesh" Kirk acknowledged. "Like that matters."

"It matters, a lot. It sure as hell mattered to those zombies."

""You ate Crewman Carstairs!" Jim cried in disgust

"He was going to eat Christine and Nancy, alive." McCoy replied.

"Perhaps, Doctor McCoy, we would feel more comfortable if you explained how you became a ghul." Spock tried to get the interview back on track.

"It's hereditary. I was born a ghoul, but didn't start changing until I reached adolescence. A ghul, g-h-u-l, a desert spirit like a genii, found my ancestress who had been buried alive, rescued her and took her for his bride. All their male descendents are ghouls, g-h-o-u-l-s." He paused to take a sip of water.

Jim jumped in still flabbergasted. "But you're a doctor, your father was a doctor." He shuddered.

"I have a mother, you know." McCoy said coolly. "And yes there are a lot of doctors in her family tree. Doctors and undertakers. In the days of yore, undertakers were considered `unclean', so it was perfect job for us ghouls. As life got more civilized, it became harder to keep quiet, but fortunately we don't need to feed or change that often."

Spock observed; "However, feeding gives you vitality. That is why in so many planetside situations you are the most vulnerable member of the landing party, because you refrain from partaking of human flesh."

"Yes, I resist my urges. Unlike some people on the other side of a force field." Len muttered.

"He's dead, Jim." Kirk quoted. He didn't know whether to be ironic or frightened. "You act all upset when a crew member dies. I'll bet you're just waiting to get them to the autopsy room for a little bedtime snack."

"I regret the death of each and every crewmember. I strive to defeat death and feel the loss deeply. I resist, Great Bird knows, how I resist, but once in a great while, before someone is cremated, I take nourishment."

"And what if he does?" The Vulcan inquired. "Think about the whole man and your history with him. Is Leonard H. McCoy in fact an award winning doctor that other starship and base commanders have tried to poach from you? Does he do his job above and beyond the call of duty?" Been a friend, steadfast and loyal?
"
"Yes, yes, and dammit yes!" Kirk was forced to concede. "Although, after today, I may rely a little more on Med Tech Gonzales. He can really think on his feet, er, foot."

"So, Jim, are you letting me outta here or outing me?" Bones wrung his hands.

"One thing first, tell me about zombies."

"Hate'em, can't stand the unnatural, trice damned things. This is only the second time in my life I've had the misfortune to encounter `em, and they always make me loose control. Hell, food should not walk around. And when they attack the people I care about, I fight back as best I can -- with tooth and claw." Len's blue eyes blazed. He dared Kirk to challenge him.

Instead, Captain Kirk slapped the panel and released the force field. "This is a lot to take in." He shook his head. "Gentlemen, I need a drink, probably more than one. Would you care to join me?"

FIN

Monday, February 22, 2010

Sex on the Beach

NEW TOS Sex on the Beach 1/1 [NC-17] (S/Mc)
Title: Sex on the Beach
Author: Artemis (ArtemisOK@aol.com)
Series: TOS
Codes: S/Mc
Rating: [NC-17]
Parts: 1/1
Summary: A Valentine’s postcard from Spock and McCoy
Disclaimer: CBS-Paramount owns Star Trek. No infringement intended, no money being made.
Feedback: Will write for feedback
Beta: No beta, all mistakes are my own.
Author’s Note: Written for the Valentine’s mini-wave. Tense confusion is deliberate.
Archiving: The Spock/McCoyote’s Den, Artemys Aquiver, and ASC, ASCEML


SEX ON THE BEACH

Two handsome lovers walk hand in hand
All alone on Hawaii’s golden shore
They run to their blanket in the sand
Their passion a-kindled once more

“Shit!” cried Leonard with disgust as he deleted the verse. “This is terrible. I’ll try again.”

Two
Young men
In Paradise
On sliver sand
Making passionate love in the moonlight.

The future Doctor McCoy sighed. “Better, but too stilted. Let’s try this.”

There was a young Vulcan names Spock,
Who had an amazing cock.
I know how to treat him
I suck him and eat him
And then some green booty, I’ll knock.

He shook his head. “Dammit, I’m a med student, not a poet.” He opened a new page.

**************
The crash of the waves, the cry of the gulls, the sighing of the wind in the palm trees made up our serenade.

The beach was ours. Only our foot prints marked the golden sand. Four coconut palms provided a wind break and made scattered shade on our blanket.

Beside the blanket lined up in Star Fleet style, were our shoes, our swimsuits and a cooler. Inside the cooler were four beers, some sandwiches, a couple of mangoes and the suntan oil.

Spock lay half dozing, watching the waves. He was always fascinated by the ocean. So much water, he says, we don’t have that at home.

At first I just watch him watch the waves, and then I began to run my hands over his olive-green tan. Being half human makes him more susceptible to Sol’s rays. I pop open the top off the oil and began to run some coconut scented SPF on his back.

I started with his neck where the short military haircut stops, massaging and caressing. I moved to his broad shoulders. At first he relaxed, under my ministrations, but then he flinched.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t stop. It’s just a little sore from the wrestling match with the Telerite. Those Telerite females are tougher than they look.” He put his hand on top of mine and gave it a brief squeeze.

Down and around on the shoulder blades, Spock began to stir a little. I smiled to myself.

I laid down a cool line of oil along his spine. He gasped. “I’ll warm ya up.” I whispered in his pointed ear. I eased the oil over his lateral rib cage reaching as far under his body as I could. I paused exhilarated to feel the beat of his heart under my hand.

I smoothed the oil down the bumpy ridge of his backbone. He squirmed more frantically.

My hands span his narrow waist, moving up and down, up and down. His chesni are swollen and sensitive. I stroke them and the Vulcan under me moans.

Finally, I reach his buttocks. I pour the oil into my hands to warm it up first. I apply both hands to his left butt cheek, kneading and caressing. I finish with a little slap. I give the right a little more attention, lingering over his birthmark that looks like Georgia.
Spock makes small thrusting motions into the blanket. I grin and begin the run my finger up and down his crack. The third time, I touch his asshole he pushes up towards me.

“Now, Len, I need you now.” He begs.

And even though I’m as horny as he is, I say; “But shug, I have to keep going or you’ll burn.”

My fine young Vulcan rises up on his elbow and looks back at me. He impales me with his eyes.

“I burn for you.” He says in a rough voice that sends hot and cold shivers down my spine.

“Ah, ah…” I start. Great Bird, he’s so sexy, like that looking over his shoulder, down the length of his shiny, shiny back. I want to say something witty and debonair, but all I manager to say is; “You look hot.”

“Fuck me.” He says. Not original either, but what the hell.

My dick twitches. Little Horatio agrees with Spock and so do I. I reach into a side pocket of the cooler and bring out the JZ lube. I squeeze a good daub into my hand and grease up two fingers. I slide them home, preparing the way.

Spock hisses, “Yessss”.

Encouraged, I move my fingers in a steady rhythm. My free hand imitates the motion getting my dick all slick and ready. Spock comes up on his hands and knees, and so I withdraw my fingers. When he is in position, I knock on heaven’s door.

There is no need to tell him to relax. We both want this and know what we are doing. Slowly carefully, I enter him. Each hot, tight inch excites my senses and threatens to short circuit my brain. Finally, I’m sheathed as far as I can go. We both sigh. I grab his right hip and put my other hand on his lightly over his chesni to steady myself.

Slow at first, long drawn strokes that hit his prostrate. He grunts and pushes back. We set a pace that is timeless and mutually satisfying.

Somewhere in the cloud of passion, I notice that Spock is stroking himself. I lean forward and whisper in his ear. “Let me take care of that for you.”

He answers back, “I have it well in hand. Just keep doing what you’re doing and we shall reach a satisfactory conclusion.”

“I aim to please.” Says I as I kiss his neck and thrust home.

He grunts. “Your aim is excellent.”

Sometime later, I feel the heaviness in my balls. I grasp my lover’s hips with both hands and start the race to the finish. Fast and frantic, hot and hard, each stroke building to a crescendo and a primal scream as my sperm is launched deep into his bowels.

Beneath me, he shudders and growls. With my penis still trapped inside him, Spock rears like a stallion and sends his cum shooting out. It arches outward nearly reaching the edge of the blanket. I reach under his arms with mine and ride him back down. I am released with an exhausted plop.

He turns onto his back and we kiss deeply.

I move my head in the direction of his spunk trail. “Damn boy! That must be a meter and half!”

“One point five-two meters to be exact.” He says absently mindedly as he traces my sweat down my chest.

I realize that he is writing his initials. “So, I’m claimed?”

“Yes.” He states firmly. Mercurially, the Vulcan’s mood changes, “Do you mind?”

“Not in the least.” I reach to tousle his hair but change my mind and pull him in for a tight embrace.

Suddenly I’m thirsty. I become very aware of the tropical sun and the trade winds. I rise up on my elbow and reach across his verdant flushed body.

“Wanna a beer?” I asked.

“It is important to replenish electrolytes.” He replied.

I claimed a kiss in passing as I reach for the cooler. I brought out two Steger’s Pale Ales and twisted off the caps. I handed one of the cool green bottles to a sweaty Spock. We toasted and took a long pull. Setting the bottles firmly in the sand, we lay back on the blanket letting the breeze dry us off.

Replete and sated, fucked out and tired
Spooning asleep
Spock and McCoy
Aloha

FIN

Sex on the Beach

NEW TOS Sex on the Beach 1/1 [NC-17] (S/Mc)
Title: Sex on the Beach
Author: Artemis (ArtemisOK@aol.com)
Series: TOS
Codes: S/Mc
Rating: [NC-17]
Parts: 1/1
Summary: A Valentine’s postcard from Spock and McCoy
Disclaimer: CBS-Paramount owns Star Trek. No infringement intended, no money being made.
Feedback: Will write for feedback
Beta: No beta, all mistakes are my own.
Author’s Note: Written for the Valentine’s mini-wave. Tense confusion is deliberate.
Archiving: The Spock/McCoyote’s Den, Artemys Aquiver, and ASC, ASCEML


SEX ON THE BEACH

Two handsome lovers walk hand in hand
All alone on Hawaii’s golden shore
They run to their blanket in the sand
Their passion a-kindled once more

“Shit!” cried Leonard with disgust as he deleted the verse. “This is terrible. I’ll try again.”

Two
Young men
In Paradise
On sliver sand
Making passionate love in the moonlight.

The future Doctor McCoy sighed. “Better, but too stilted. Let’s try this.”

There was a young Vulcan names Spock,
Who had an amazing cock.
I know how to treat him
I suck him and eat him
And then some green booty, I’ll knock.

He shook his head. “Dammit, I’m a med student, not a poet.” He opened a new page.

**************
The crash of the waves, the cry of the gulls, the sighing of the wind in the palm trees made up our serenade.

The beach was ours. Only our foot prints marked the golden sand. Four coconut palms provided a wind break and made scattered shade on our blanket.

Beside the blanket lined up in Star Fleet style, were our shoes, our swimsuits and a cooler. Inside the cooler were four beers, some sandwiches, a couple of mangoes and the suntan oil.

Spock lay half dozing, watching the waves. He was always fascinated by the ocean. So much water, he says, we don’t have that at home.

At first I just watch him watch the waves, and then I began to run my hands over his olive-green tan. Being half human makes him more susceptible to Sol’s rays. I pop open the top off the oil and began to run some coconut scented SPF on his back.

I started with his neck where the short military haircut stops, massaging and caressing. I moved to his broad shoulders. At first he relaxed, under my ministrations, but then he flinched.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t stop. It’s just a little sore from the wrestling match with the Telerite. Those Telerite females are tougher than they look.” He put his hand on top of mine and gave it a brief squeeze.

Down and around on the shoulder blades, Spock began to stir a little. I smiled to myself.

I laid down a cool line of oil along his spine. He gasped. “I’ll warm ya up.” I whispered in his pointed ear. I eased the oil over his lateral rib cage reaching as far under his body as I could. I paused exhilarated to feel the beat of his heart under my hand.

I smoothed the oil down the bumpy ridge of his backbone. He squirmed more frantically.

My hands span his narrow waist, moving up and down, up and down. His chesni are swollen and sensitive. I stroke them and the Vulcan under me moans.

Finally, I reach his buttocks. I pour the oil into my hands to warm it up first. I apply both hands to his left butt cheek, kneading and caressing. I finish with a little slap. I give the right a little more attention, lingering over his birthmark that looks like Georgia.
Spock makes small thrusting motions into the blanket. I grin and begin the run my finger up and down his crack. The third time, I touch his asshole he pushes up towards me.

“Now, Len, I need you now.” He begs.

And even though I’m as horny as he is, I say; “But shug, I have to keep going or you’ll burn.”

My fine young Vulcan rises up on his elbow and looks back at me. He impales me with his eyes.

“I burn for you.” He says in a rough voice that sends hot and cold shivers down my spine.

“Ah, ah…” I start. Great Bird, he’s so sexy, like that looking over his shoulder, down the length of his shiny, shiny back. I want to say something witty and debonair, but all I manager to say is; “You look hot.”

“Fuck me.” He says. Not original either, but what the hell.

My dick twitches. Little Horatio agrees with Spock and so do I. I reach into a side pocket of the cooler and bring out the JZ lube. I squeeze a good daub into my hand and grease up two fingers. I slide them home, preparing the way.

Spock hisses, “Yessss”.

Encouraged, I move my fingers in a steady rhythm. My free hand imitates the motion getting my dick all slick and ready. Spock comes up on his hands and knees, and so I withdraw my fingers. When he is in position, I knock on heaven’s door.

There is no need to tell him to relax. We both want this and know what we are doing. Slowly carefully, I enter him. Each hot, tight inch excites my senses and threatens to short circuit my brain. Finally, I’m sheathed as far as I can go. We both sigh. I grab his right hip and put my other hand on his lightly over his chesni to steady myself.

Slow at first, long drawn strokes that hit his prostrate. He grunts and pushes back. We set a pace that is timeless and mutually satisfying.

Somewhere in the cloud of passion, I notice that Spock is stroking himself. I lean forward and whisper in his ear. “Let me take care of that for you.”

He answers back, “I have it well in hand. Just keep doing what you’re doing and we shall reach a satisfactory conclusion.”

“I aim to please.” Says I as I kiss his neck and thrust home.

He grunts. “Your aim is excellent.”

Sometime later, I feel the heaviness in my balls. I grasp my lover’s hips with both hands and start the race to the finish. Fast and frantic, hot and hard, each stroke building to a crescendo and a primal scream as my sperm is launched deep into his bowels.

Beneath me, he shudders and growls. With my penis still trapped inside him, Spock rears like a stallion and sends his cum shooting out. It arches outward nearly reaching the edge of the blanket. I reach under his arms with mine and ride him back down. I am released with an exhausted plop.

He turns onto his back and we kiss deeply.

I move my head in the direction of his spunk trail. “Damn boy! That must be a meter and half!”

“One point five-two meters to be exact.” He says absently mindedly as he traces my sweat down my chest.

I realize that he is writing his initials. “So, I’m claimed?”

“Yes.” He states firmly. Mercurially, the Vulcan’s mood changes, “Do you mind?”

“Not in the least.” I reach to tousle his hair but change my mind and pull him in for a tight embrace.

Suddenly I’m thirsty. I become very aware of the tropical sun and the trade winds. I rise up on my elbow and reach across his verdant flushed body.

“Wanna a beer?” I asked.

“It is important to replenish electrolytes.” He replied.

I claimed a kiss in passing as I reach for the cooler. I brought out two Steger’s Pale Ales and twisted off the caps. I handed one of the cool green bottles to a sweaty Spock. We toasted and took a long pull. Setting the bottles firmly in the sand, we lay back on the blanket letting the breeze dry us off.

Replete and sated, fucked out and tired
Spooning asleep
Spock and McCoy
Aloha

FIN

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Friday, January 29, 2010

Friday, January 22, 2010

Monday, January 18, 2010

LOL Trek: Print Upload


LOL Trek: Print Upload



Ambassador's Son, Part 2, Sp/Mc [NC17]

Scene II

(Spock and Leonard climb into the flitter. Spock engages the automatic pilot. Then they laugh heartily and embrace. They kiss open mouthed, briefly and passionately.)

Spock: Leonard, I cannot believe you talked me into that!

Leonard: I can’t believe you went along with it, but I’m glad you did.

Spock: I thought surely your mother would come up to see what was taking so long.

Leonard: That was the one thing I could count on. She knows I’m a clotheshorse and it takes me forever to get dressed.

Spock: You, however, get undressed very quickly.

Leonard: (sputters) My tux was the color of Andorian skin! (He slaps Spock on the knee), Boy, you are a genius.

Spock: Where did you get that… that… piece of sartorial satire?

Leonard: My mom bought it. She’s into Twentieth century history and culture. We had "Tee Vee" dinners the other night, ugh.

Spock: I’m sure my evening’s repast was much tastier. (He pulls Leonard close) As a matter of fact, I would not be adverse to seconds. (Spock tugs on Leonard’s waistband.)

Leonard: Seconds, I haven’t recovered from first, yet, darlin.’ (He gently removes Spock’s hand)

Spock: (looks down cast) I understand.

Leonard: Aw, Spock honey, don’t. Look, how long until we get to the Andorian Embassy?

Spock: At current course and speed, forty-seven minutes and fifty-three seconds.

Leonard: Plenty of time. (He slips down between Spock’s knees) Cadet, I suggest you remove those trousers, if you don’t want them stained and wrinkled. (Spock obliges) Oh my, were you planning on wearing that all evening?

Spock: Just until you noticed.

Leonard: Well, you could have been the Belle of the Ball. All the ladies would have lined up to dance with the Big Man on the Academy Campus. Where did you find my codpiece and when did you put it on?

Spock: On the floor beside your bed. I put it on while you were in the bathroom. I am constantly amazed that you are allowed to keep your room in such a state of disarray. It would not be tolerated on Vulcan.

Leonard: Well, it works for me. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s not polite to talk with my mouth full.

LATER (They are dressed, watching the world skim by under the flitter)

Spock: Well timed, Len. We have 4.7 minutes until we reach the embassy.

Leonard: Just one final detail. Let me fix your lipstick, sweetheart.

Spock: It is a Vulcan cosmetic designed to camouflage such features as Humans might finds disquieting.

Leonard: In other words: Vulcan lipstick.

Spock: (Sighs) Yes. Leonard, when you call me "sweetheart", is that a sincere indication of your feelings towards me, or is it just a verbal habit?

Leonard: (Leonard takes Spock’s face in his hands) My dear Spock, I am very sincere when I call you "sweetheart", "darling", "honey" and I wish you would fall into the same habit.

Spock: Understood, darlin’.

THE END