The Captain's Man

The Captain's Man

Author: tprillahfiction

Series: ST: TOS   MU

Pairing: MirrorSpock/MirrorMcCoy

Rating:  PG 

Summary:  McCoy obeys a summons from the captain.  This is probably what passes for fluff in the MU.

Disclaimer:  Star Trek does not belong to me.




'You have been summoned.'  The PADD you clutch so very tightly--tight enough to leave dents in, if you were only strong enough-- decrees.   You note that the screen carries the official seal of the captain.  'Observation deck.  Immediately.'  So you go.  Once again, you go.  No matter how much you loathe, hate, despise the man--James T. Kirk is the captain.  And he has summoned you up to the area you most fear.  The area that he knows you never willingly visit.  


You know you've done nothing wrong.  It's to toy with you, of course.  Before the booth.  But the booth is nothing, compared to the stars.


You leave your lab and you go.  Not too slowly.  Not too quickly.  Down the corridors.  Up in the turbolift.  You slunk along.  To your destiny.


You hesitate outside the door to the O-Deck.  You hover your hand at the outside controls.  It takes a certain amount of courage to even enter.  You're about to, when the doors swoosh open for you.


"Lt. Commander McCoy."


You step inside.  Timidly.  Still clutching your PADD.  You hug it against your chest.  Protection?  It is dark in here.  Completely.  Perfect. You are afraid of the dark.  Among other things.  You cannot see the officer inside but you know that disembodied voice.


"Oh," you say, casually.  Too casually.  "I was expecting the captain.  I must be early." You even manage to force out a wry chuckle.


The lights come on, to ten percent.  Still dim, but better than nothing.  "You are not early."


You gasp at the sight.  First Officer Spock is attired in something very new, very different.  The style is much like his old sciences uniform, but…this is captain's gold.  You cough into your hand.  That means…


"James T. Kirk is deceased," he informs you.


Interesting.  You think.  There had not been a fresh stiff in the morgue today.


"His remains have been dealt with," he adds.


"I see."  You nod.  You back way the fuck off.  Away.  "Well, congratulations, Captain Spock.  You have my allegiance," you say quickly.  You salute him.  The best, most honest salute you've ever given.  You turn on your heel.  You feel caged in with a panther.   You need to get out, now.  You frantically wave at the inside controls.  There is no response.  Oh God. please.  God…  Your respiration increases.  Please, please, please…


"I have not granted you leave."


You spin around.  You do not look him in the eyes.  You cannot.  You study his, then your own boots.  You try not to gulp as you see him draw closer to you.  "By your leave, Captain?"  You cannot help but sound entirely too meek.


"Not yet, Lt. Commander McCoy."  He beckons you over to sit next to him on the small, hard bench, next to the arching, eternal window of stars.  A place you fear most.  "I wish to speak with you." 


You nod and force yourself to sit.  You cannot move, not right next to him, and this field of stars.  


"As you know, I am allowed, as my captain's prerogative, physical intimacy in a public relationship with another member of my crew."


"Oh," you say, tightly.  "You mean you want me to procure you a Captain's woman.  Huh.  Never thought of you like that.  Thought perhaps if you'd made captain, you'd either be celibate or…uh…I don't know…you'd find your own Vulcan female or you'd just go with Kirk's old lady, you know, she isn't bad looking and all, but if you're looking for, uh, younger, maybe one of the yeomen or you know…"

He allows you to keep babbling on till you fall silent.  You shift, awkwardly, feeling his stare on you.  You try to slide away from him.  But on this tiny little bench, there is nowhere to go.  "If you don't want them…then what do you want from me?"


And you hear something that terrifies you even more than the stars.  Makes your heart stop, stutter, your breath catch.  "I want you."  


You release your PADD from your shaky hands.  You listen to the loud clatter it makes when it hits the deck.  You rub your sweaty hands on your trousers.


"Me, Captain?"  You still do not look at him.  You're staring down at the PADD on the deck.  At the blinking captain's seal on the screen.  "You want me?  As a…" 'As a captain's man?' you mean to say, but you cannot get out the words.




"I'm not sure, if I want the position, Captain," you find yourself saying, stupidly.  Stupid, because your silly protests do not matter.  Because he's the captain.  He will take what he wants, regardless of what you want.


"That is most…unfortunate."


And you gulp, and wait for the attack.  And you wait.  You close your eyes and wait.  Any minute now and he'll have you, right here amongst the stars.


You open your eyes to find that he is regarding you, mildly.  "You have my leave, McCoy."


"Yes, Captain," you say, quietly.  You rise and quickly head to the exit before his voice stops you.  


"Are you not forgetting something?"  He hands you the PADD.  As you take it from him, your fingers brush his.  His fingers suddenly seem to latch onto your own.  They seem to caress your own.  They are…caressing.  This feels erotic, somehow.  Different.   His hands are hot.  You wonder how they will feel on your body.  Perhaps they might feel damned good.  Makes a change.


"Thank you, Captain," you say, pulling your hand away.  Breaking the physical contact.  You turn away, once again.


"Leonard," you hear him say.  And this time, you look at him, the eyes, down to his goatee, the mouth, then you look back up into the dark eyes.  They are not unkind.  "You fear me."


"Uh," you confess.  "Mostly the stars."


"The stars?"


You motion overhead.  "The observation deck."


You see him raise a shocked eyebrow at that.  "You do not enjoy this view?"


"No." You shake your head vehemently.  "Never."


"My apologies.  I find the view comforting.   I had surmised that you would also do the same.  I had not known it would upset you."


"Yeah, well…" you say.  "The only one who knew was James Kirk."  You had spent many a time up here.  Imprisoned.  Screaming.  Naked.  Looking at the stars.  Listening to Kirk's laughter.  Nobody heard.


"Kirk is dead.  Whatever harm he has done to you is now in the past.  I will not hurt you, nor will anyone else, on my honor as a Vulcan."


You watch as Captain Spock rises, pulls down once on his uniform to straighten it, then escorts you out of the observation deck and into the corridor.  You head into the turbo lift together.  


You ride in silence till the lift reaches deck 5.  The doors open, you begin to head out with him.  The captain's quarters are on this deck and you will probably be required to share with him, from now on.  But his outstretched hand halts you.  "Would it be agreeable if we had dinner together at 20:00 hours?"


You think about it for a few moments.  Then smile.  "Alright."





Return to Main Page