Title: Transporter Transformation
Beta: Janet and Bigmackie
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to Paramount.
Summary: Early relationship - Spock and
McCoy are sent to help a space
McCoy hated the transporter. Everyone on
the ship knew it. Hell, people throughout the galaxy knew it. Some of them laughed about it, and some had theories about why,
but everyone knew it.
"This hesitation is illogical."
"I'm fully aware of that!" McCoy's reluctance
had grown over the years, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, especially the Vulcan standing next to him.
"You have tolerated this for longer than
is healthy. As a healer, I'm sure you're aware of that." Spock stepped close and raised his hand.
McCoy took a healthy step back and said,
"It's my problem. I'll deal with it."
"We have tried that. We are going to try
something different." Spock moved as fast as a Vulcan could, and his hand effortlessly melded to McCoy's face. McCoy could
no longer resist. His will drained away, and Spock thrust their minds together.
//You are not afraid//
//Hell, yes, I am//
Spock sighed inside McCoy's mind. //I can
repair the damage//
//I won't allow this, Spock// McCoy felt
the assent and was reassured. It left him quite unprepared for what followed. He felt a wave of what could be described as
fog. His mind disappeared inside it, and he woke up on Neutral Zone Station Three. How he got there was a mystery, and he
wavered between gratitude and anger. Anger won out. "Never again!"
"If you present a reasonable argument,"
Spock said, "in writing, I will consider it. Otherwise, we will follow this course of action in the future. That's an order."
McCoy raised a finger, took a breath, and
dropped his hand. "I'll work on it."
"I look forward to reading it." Spock stepped
off the dais. "We both have duties. I will meet you in our quarters later."
"Fine," McCoy snapped, "Mr. Spock." No
one else could have heard the mild reprimand inside those two words, but Spock would hear it clearly. Spock nodded, and his
lips pressed together. He left with alacrity. McCoy glared after him until he realized that he didn't know the way to sickbay.
He was going to have to corral an ensign to take him there. Spock, no doubt, had a schematic in that stubborn Vulcan brain
that doubled as a computer, but McCoy would have to rely on people to escort him around this floating Christmas ornament.
Hopefully, the supplies had been delivered as scheduled. Scotty and his transporter crews were usually efficient. McCoy found
an ensign that was happy to help without any trouble.
They passed a window, and McCoy took a
moment to look out at the Enterprise in orbit. This view made
Captain Kirk's heart swell. She was a nice ship. As he watched, the Enterprise
broke orbit and gracefully sailed away. She'd go into warp at a safe distance. They were making a milk run to a planet that
was nervous about their proximity to the neutral zone. He'd be back soon. McCoy went on towards sickbay.
"Dr. McCoy! So glad you're here!"
McCoy thanked the ensign before shaking
the hand of the head nurse on this station. There was no doctor. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Allen."
"Doctor? You're being kind. I'm not a doctor."
Allen laughed. It was strained.
"You have a doctorate in nursing and graduated
at the top of your class." McCoy surveyed the sickbay while he talked. It needed some work done to it. "But if you prefer,
I'll call you Lieutenant."
Allen smiled, and it made McCoy want to
turn away. "Fred would be fine."
McCoy avoided answering. He was never a
stickler for protocol, but calling this man 'Fred' wasn't possible. The supplies were stacked haphazardly in a corner, and
he went to count containers.
"The transporter techs arrived with those
moments ago." Allen followed along. "I hope everything is here."
"Correct number of containers." McCoy sighed.
"Let's get busy."
"We could have lunch first?" Allen was
hopeful. McCoy didn't want to hear it. He wasn't here to eat the awful food produced by a mostly broken down replicator that
Spock would end up fixing. This space station needed a functioning sickbay, and he'd do his best to see it got one.
"When did you have your last checkup, Lieutenant?"
"Well, uh, things are a bit more informal
here on the space station." Allen shuffled his feet.
McCoy looked about. "Okay, we'll start
with the nuts and bolts and work our way to the crew. If you don't feel you can handle this position, I have two competent
nurses on the Enterprise that would dearly love to have a
sickbay all their own."
Allen's eyes widened in surprise. "I never
thought of it that way."
"No kidding?" McCoy forced a smile. "Would
you like to work, or should I get this mess straightened out for someone else?"
Allen stood up a little straighter; his
paunch almost disappeared. "This is my sickbay, but I'd certainly be grateful for your help."
"And guidance, plus a swift kick," McCoy
muttered as he leaned down to lift the first container onto a table. "I hope Spock is having as much fun as I am."
Spock was not, and at the rate his personal
shields were unraveling, he'd be irritated before this first shift was complete.
"This is simply not acceptable." Spock
pulled out a mass of wires. "Nothing on this station will ever function if proper maintenance is ignored."
"Nothing on this station ever works," Lt.
Commander Lucy Staler said. "My engineering crew is hopeless."
"Nothing is hopeless." Spock stood up and
pulled down his tunic. "Please begin a system wide inspection."
Lt. Staler hesitated. "Yes, sir. I conducted
one just before you arrived, and here is a breakdown of the most severe problems. I'll begin another."
"No, that would be redundant." Spock took
the pad from her. "I'll review this while I work on your main computer. Please send your engineers to me."
"Will do, sir." She saluted and walked
Spock reviewed her career. She was a competent
officer, having been posted here two months ago when the Farragut dropped off new personnel. She'd do well, assuming the station
didn't detonate from negligence.
McCoy had no idea where the quarters they'd
been assigned to where, but figured Spock would know. He toggled the intercom system. It emitted a piercing squeal, sputtered,
and clicked off.
"It doesn't work very often. I usually
walk to the command center." Allen shrugged. "We aren't a starship."
"No." McCoy shook his head. Spock had his
work cut out for him. "Show me the way, will ya?"
"Certainly, Dr. McCoy." Allen led the way
through the station, around and up three levels. He was huffing and puffing. "Poor oxygen."
McCoy thought the oxygen level was fine.
The gravity was even a bit lighter. "You need to do this three times a day."
"I'm within regulations." Allen took a
"Barely." McCoy followed Allen through
a set of doors onto a bridge, of sorts. Spock's lower body was visible under a control panel. "Thank you, Lt. Allen."
"You're welcome, Dr. McCoy." Allen chugged
"Commander Spock, could you please inform
me as to where our quarters are located?"
"I will take you there momentarily. I wish
to finish this set of modifications." Spock found a tool by touch. "Will that be satisfactory?"
McCoy heard the irritation. No one else
would hear it, but he did - loud and clear. "Yes sir."
Spock didn't answer. McCoy stepped back
and watched the people working; none of them looked happy. The best people in Star Fleet tended to end up on starships and
being assigned to the flagship was a privilege. He'd forgotten that, but this station was a harsh reminder that not all of
Star Fleet was run by extremely competent individuals that desired nothing more than to break their balls for their captain.
"Yes ma'am?" McCoy turned and smiled.
"I thought it might be you. Is sickbay
improving?" She held out her hand. "Lt. Commander Staler."
"Pleasure to meet you." McCoy shook her
hand. "Yes. Give me a couple of days, and I'll start crew physicals. We'll get a baseline of everyone on board. Lt. Allen
is more than competent enough to doctor this floating wreck."
"I'm glad to hear it." Lt. Staler wiped
her brow. "And we do have thrusters, not much else though."
McCoy laughed as he was supposed to and
glanced at Spock. "We'll do our best for you."
"I know you will." Lt. Staler looked around.
"Is it just me or is it hot in here?"
"I have raised the ambient temperature
on this station by three degrees," Spock said. "The computers will function more efficiently."
"The people might pass out, but the computers
are more important." Lt. Staler shrugged. "We'll get used to it."
McCoy laughed softly. This lieutenant was
something special; not all the personnel here were second rate. "I thought computers worked better in a cool, dry environment,
Mr. Spock. They're going to have moss growing on the walls."
"That is usually correct." Spock emerged
intact and shut the panel. "However, these computers are not Star Fleet regulation. I believe they were purchased from the
Rigellians, who build their computers to function best in a hot environment."
"Low bidder, huh?"
"Probable." Spock glanced around the bridge.
"I will show Dr. McCoy our quarters, have dinner, and return to duty. Thank you, Lieutenant."
"Thank you, Commander." Lt. Staler saluted
and went back to work.
McCoy gave her a sloppy salute in return.
"I'll keep you updated on sickbay."
"I'd appreciate it."
Spock picked up a pad and took off. McCoy
stretched his legs to keep up with him. "We in a hurry?"
"If we are to complete the work before
the Enterprise returns, we must act with haste." Spock didn't
slow down. "If I'd have known the extent of these problems, I'd have brought an entire team with us."
"Poor communication. I'm surprised at you,
Spock." McCoy needled him for the fun of it, and because it was a habit.
"I made a number of assumptions that were
in error. I will never make them again." Spock palmed open the door, but it jammed halfway. McCoy leaned against the wall
and watched in amazement as Spock wrenched the door back, and then repaired the mechanism so it would slide freely. "We were
also lied to by Commander Jenson."
"Where was he while you were on the bridge?"
"Apparently he is no longer aboard."
McCoy glanced about their cabin. It was
fine, but there were bigger fish to fry. "He went AWOL?"
"He left on a vessel in the moments that
we were beamed aboard. Lt. Staler believes it was a ship of Vulcan registry."
McCoy sat down and stared at Spock. "No."
"No. I'm certain it was Romulan." Spock
put the pad down on the table, inspected their cabin, and fixed equipment as he went along. McCoy watched. He was too stunned
to help, not that he could have. Spock managed to produce two meals from the tiny replicator. They were standard in quarters
for commanding officers. "We should eat."
"Yes, but is that edible?"
"I believe so." Spock sat down. McCoy joined
him, and they ate in silence. The food wasn't good, but it was food. It would keep them alive, if they took supplements. Spock
reached across the table and brushed one finger along McCoy's hand. "You are angry?"
"No, not any longer." McCoy wasn't any
good at staying angry with Spock. "But it was an invasion of my privacy."
"I don't agree. We have no privacy between
us." Spock lowered his voice. "You have suffered long enough."
"But it's my suffering." McCoy stood up
and cleared the table. The recycler groaned at him. Spock fiddled with it until it worked. McCoy placed two fingers on the
back of Spock's hand. "I will allow it."
"That one time." McCoy slapped Spock's
hand. "Stay out of my brain!"
Spock stared down at his hand, raised it
slowly, and brushed his knuckles across McCoy's cheekbone. The slight contact made McCoy flush; his heart sped up. The words
meant nothing. They both knew it. McCoy opened his mouth to complain about coercion, but Spock claimed McCoy's mouth, thrusting
his tongue and mind inside.
//You don't want that//
McCoy tried to lie again for his pride.
//Do not lie//
//Everything with you is complicated//
McCoy lost the mind-to-mind link when his cock filled with blood. He discovered that he was sucking Spock's tongue. Spock's
hand wrapped firmly around the back of McCoy's neck in a grip that was possessive enough to make McCoy glare, someday, when
he could think again.
"If it were simple, neither of us would
want it." Spock took two steps back, releasing him completely. "We are mates. We share our minds. You will become accustomed
"Not damn likely. You shove your way inside
and do as you please!"
Spock raised his eyebrow, and McCoy blushed
at the double entendre. "Do you wish me to return to my duties?"
McCoy frowned and changed the subject.
"I know exactly how much sleep a Vulcan requires. Don't make me sedate you and I'll be happy to do it."
"I am aware of that." Spock straightened
his tunic. "Do you want me to leave?"
"No," McCoy whispered, his lust overwhelming
his residual anger. "But I can't keep you."
"I have always been fascinated by the workings
of your mind." Spock dimmed the lights. "There is an old Terran phrase that fits you - 'Six of one and a half dozen of the
McCoy laughed and waited breathlessly to
see if Spock would undress. Spock, naked, was a rare treat to be savored for hours.
"Are you speechless?" Spock came to him,
McCoy nodded and smiled. Spock raised his
hand, and McCoy sat down hard on the bunk. It was lower than he'd expected, and he didn't even notice. Spock's hand worked
its way down McCoy's body, caressing and circling. McCoy had a brief wish that he could take control of what would follow,
and he tried to stand. Spock clasped McCoy's head in his hands and slid them down. McCoy arched and nearly orgasmed. He groaned
and with two swift movements released Spock's trousers.
"I sense your desire to take control."
Spock put his hands on McCoy's shoulders.
McCoy knew Spock's nature, and it wasn't
yielding. "You'd do it for Jim."
Spock stiffened his back. McCoy sat down
again and took the large Vulcan cock in his mouth. Spock rested his hand on the meld points. //He is my commanding officer//
//And I'm not//
//You don't wish to be//
McCoy groaned at that measure of truth
and broke away from the meld. He focused on touching, licking, and sucking. Spock held him gently. "I desire you."
McCoy looked up and pulled back. "That's
"Then why do you argue?"
"It's my nature." McCoy struggled to his
feet. He shivered when Spock stripped him.
Spock located one of their bags and found
what he was looking for. "You want me. You want this."
McCoy groaned from the first touch on his
body, and he went to his hands and knees on the bunk. "You're right."
"Do not hurt your tongue." Spock laughed
at him in a Vulcan way.
McCoy smiled and found one of Spock's hands
to clasp. "Take me."
"It wouldn't kill you to undress." McCoy
gasped at the sudden pressure and knew he had only moments of rational thought left.
Spock flowed over and inside him. There
were no trading of words; that was a superficial meld. This was a joining of emotions and pleasure. McCoy was still shocked
at the intensity of it. It swept him away, and when the storm passed, he lay limply on the bunk. Spock covered him with a
His body locked in pleasure; McCoy didn't
have the ability to answer. He concentrated on breathing. This was why he'd never command Spock. Jim Kirk might get it done,
but this poor southern boy didn't stand a chance. He took a deeper breath, cupping his groin. If the crew knew, they'd line
up at Spock's door in hopes that he'd bless one of them with this satiation. McCoy slowly relaxed, the quivers dying away.
He set his internal alarm for six hours and dropped off to sleep.
Spock reviewed the reports again. He was
the highest-ranking officer on this station, and he would accomplish the goals set by Captain Kirk - no matter the consequences.
Dr. McCoy would complain, but he would acquiesce to the logic of it. Spock would follow orders, and not those of his mate.
McCoy woke up with a start. He had no idea
where he was, but his brain started working almost immediately. Would the fresher work? He stumbled over to it and took a
quick sonic shower. Dressing, he made up his mind to track Spock's working hours and to insist on sleep. His stomach grumbled,
and he found a protein bar in sickbay. Allen wasn't here, and it was a relief. He munched his breakfast and organized, making
sure each piece of equipment worked properly. This sickbay was a little gloomy, but there were worse in the Federation. Allen
needed to have a sense of pride.
"Yes, Commander?" McCoy turned to Spock.
It was good to see him.
"Why are you addressing me in that manner?"
McCoy caught the mild irritation. "We're
alone, and you call me 'doctor.' I assume you want to be addressed by your rank also."
"Before we shared more, you always called
"Or Mister Spock." McCoy shrugged. "Things
change. I do have a name, which I think you know, and I see no reason to be formal when we're in private."
"We are on duty though." Spock walked the
remaining steps to put them face to face. "I believe you are trying to irritate me."
McCoy laughed. "It is easy to accomplish.
I call you Spock in bed. I'm having a hard time calling you that when we're on duty. It seems personal."
"Ah, now I comprehend the difficulty."
Spock put his hands behind his back. McCoy wished those hands had wrapped around him. "Perhaps you should call me 'Commander'
McCoy put a finger in his ear and wiggled.
Had Spock really said that? "Spock . . ." He didn't know what to say. The ship's counselor inside him was waving a red flag
and hopping up and down.
"Where is Lt. Allen?"
"He hasn't reported for duty yet." McCoy
kept his voice steady. "He's not a model officer."
Spock nodded. "We will have a meal together
in approximately four hours."
"You and Lt. Allen?" McCoy grinned. "Have
a good time."
Spock went to the door. "You are a physician,
not a comedian."
McCoy laughed and went back to work, but
his brain was busy unraveling the intent behind Spock suggesting that he be called 'Commander' in bed. Was Spock serious?
Wasn't he always? McCoy sorted a large number of antibiotics. Lt. Allen suddenly dashed in the door. He looked like the devil
was chasing him. McCoy gave him a minute to catch his breath.
"Is it true Commander Spock is in command
of the station?" Lt. Allen wiped some sweat from his brow.
McCoy nodded. "Yes. He's in command." Even
when I wish he weren't. "I'd follow his orders, if I were you."
Lt. Allen glanced at the door and nodded.
McCoy didn't laugh. He'd never thought
of it that way, but it was possible. Spock hadn't ever dressed him down. "Perform to your best, and he'll be no problem."
Lt. Allen grabbed a box and got to work.
He might have muttered a few things, but McCoy ignored it or he'd have to report it. Four hours passed quickly, and Spock
was standing near the door again. Lt. Allen turned an interesting color and put his head back into his task.
"Dr. McCoy, is Lt. Allen performing his
"Yes, Commander Spock. We're getting it
done." McCoy looked around the sickbay. "We'll be finished some time tomorrow."
"I'll make a note in the log." Spock motioned
out the door. McCoy followed him. There had to be a place to eat somewhere. Spock took them a small rec room, and McCoy didn't
ask why. They sat with their trays at a small table in the back. Several crewmen got up to leave.
"You're a popular fellow," McCoy said softly.
"There has been considerable resistance
to my commands." Spock ate efficiently. "Do they want to die?"
McCoy put his fork down. "Excuse me?"
"This is a space station. They can't use
impulse engines to limp to the nearest starbase for repairs. Errors could kill people or lead to catastrophic failure." Spock
raised his eyebrow. "They must understand that."
"Do they?" McCoy went back to eating. "What's
the difference between a starbase and a space station?"
"Space stations are for monitoring purposes
and to facilitate trade. A starbase will have berths to repair starships."
"A different type of personnel is required
for a space station." McCoy nodded. "Perhaps some persuasion, instead of orders, is called for."
"I do not have time to patiently explain
each command." Spock finished his food and took his dishes to the recycler. "Start physicals now. I expect you to-"
"Smooth your way?" McCoy interrupted.
"Yes." Spock didn't sit back down. He touched
the back of McCoy's hand quickly with two fingers. "I rely on your support."
McCoy felt a jolt. His body nearly curled
in hopes of something, anything. It was disgraceful, and he smiled. "I'll do my best."
Spock left the rec room without looking
back. McCoy stared down at his hand. Was he so easy to manipulate that a mere touch brought instant compliance? Spock had
found the perfect way to shut up all the arguments - sex, but it was so much more than sex, and McCoy's cock hardened. McCoy
put his dishes away and shivered. He wanted to be with Spock, but it was never easy. The captain had warned him. Had he warned
McCoy went back to work. He'd get with
Lt. Commander Staler and get organized. It was time to get a good feel for Allen's medical skills. Allen looked guilty when
McCoy returned to the sickbay, and it made McCoy sigh with irritation. "Why do you look like you've been caught with your
hand in the cookie jar?"
Allen looked away. "I stayed busy."
McCoy crossed his arms. He just didn't
like this young man, and he couldn't figure out why. "Get on the bio bed. Your physical is first."
Allen shook his head. "No. Thank you. We'll
start with the crew."
"Consider it an order then." McCoy saw
the stubborn look on Allen's face. "Or should I get Mr. Spock in here to help?"
"No!" Allen headed for the door. He was
running, sorta, by the time he was out it.
McCoy rubbed his face. This mission had
seemed so easy, almost a vacation. He'd had visions of relaxing with Spock and really getting to know each other, intimately.
It wasn't going to happen. He hit the toggle and was pleased when it worked. "Lt. Staler, please report to sickbay."
"On my way," she answered with no delay.
McCoy finished the job he'd started while
"Can I help you?" She smiled.
McCoy returned the smile without a thought.
"Lt. Allen refused his physical and has dashed off. Please locate him and restrain him. And then set up a schedule for everyone
"Do doctors on starships give orders?"
McCoy nodded at her. "They certainly do,
and everyone obeys, even Commander Spock."
"I feel so much better about my day." Lt.
Staler laughed. "I'll get Allen tossed in the brig, but isn't that harsh?"
"He's on drugs or a Romulan - take your
Lt. Staler took a deep breath. "I'm on
it." And she was gone. McCoy made sure he was ready for the influx of patients before making a medikit. He'd be heading to
the brig soon. It took longer than he'd thought, but the call came, and he went.
Allen looked miserable. He also had a black
eye. Lt. Staler nodded. "Glad you're here. He gave us a chase."
"I can see that." McCoy waited for her
to drop the force field and stepped inside. Allen, meek as a lamb, charged them. Lt. Staler hit the floor hard. McCoy smoothly
found his hypospray and jumped into the fray. Allen hit McCoy's arm, and the hypospray went flying. Allen knocked Lt. Staler
out. McCoy tackled him from behind, but it was useless. Allen surged and struck. McCoy hit the wall, and everything went black.
Spock heard the call ordering McCoy to
the brig. He put his tools away and made sure work would continue. It was barely possible that McCoy would need some assistance.
The door to the brig opened, and Lt. Allen came running out. Spock could see McCoy was unconscious and Lt. Staler.
"Lt. Allen, halt!"
"Drop dead, Vulcan scum!"
Spock exerted himself. Lt. Allen had injured
Star Fleet personnel. He dropped Lt. Allen's unconscious body onto the bench in the brig, reinstated the force field, and
went to give aid.
McCoy woke up with a jolt. The sense of
Spock inside McCoy's mind faded away. "I'm awake."
"Excellent. Are you injured?"
McCoy took a moment. "Nothing a hypospray
can't fix." He scrabbled up and went to Lt. Staler. "She has a concussion and internal injuries. I need her in sickbay."
Spock nodded. McCoy checked out the two
other ensigns that had been also been knocked out. They were going to be fine. He administered two quick hyposprays. "Lt.
Allen's not human."
"No." Spock took control of the situation.
McCoy and Lt. Staler were taken to sickbay. He walked. She didn't. He prepared the bio bed and went to work on her. She'd
live, but she was going to be here for at least a day. When she was stable and resting, he took a deep breath and went to
sit down. He needed a hypospray for his headache, and he wasted no time administering it.
"Dr. McCoy, what is the status of Lt. Staler?"
McCoy smiled up at Spock. "She'll be fine.
We got her here in plenty of time. How's Lt. Allen?"
"He is awake." Spock brushed his fingers
along the meld points. McCoy let him. //I am concerned//
//I'm fine// McCoy captured the hand on
his face and squeezed it. "Lt. Allen?"
"He is Denobian. They are slaves of the
Romulans. He was undoubtedly placed aboard for a reason." Spock paused. "I have been unable to get obtain the information
from him and am reluctant to use a mind meld."
"As your physician, I don't recommend it.
The Romulans might have left a trap in his mind."
"You informed Captain Kirk?"
Spock paced over to the bio bed and looked
at the readings. "If I send a subspace message, it will be intercepted. The Romulans may act rashly."
"Message in a bottle?" McCoy smiled, but
they were in trouble. "Why would the
Romulans care about this old, broken down
"Unknown." Spock went to the door. "Keep
me apprised of the situation. I will find you a crewman with nursing experience."
McCoy nodded. He allowed himself to rest
for a little while before starting to work on the sickbay and keeping an eye on Lt. Staler. He also dealt with two burns,
three falls, and one case of the flu. Word had gone out that sickbay was open for business. Lt. Staler regained consciousness
right on schedule.
"Take it easy, Lieutenant." McCoy helped
her sit up. "How do you feel?"
"Like a mega kilo of something squishy
landed on me." She laughed softly. "Lt. Allen?"
"He will be staying in the brig. He's Denobian."
McCoy ran the Feinberger over her. She was fine, but exhausted. "I'll release you to your quarters. You won't report for another
two shifts, understood?"
"Aye, sir." Lt. Staler straightened her
uniform. "Commander Spock?"
"He hasn't checked in lately. I'll inform
him that you're in your quarters." McCoy pointed his finger at her. "Follow orders."
"I will." She smiled. "Walk me home, will
"Of course." McCoy gave her his arm, and
they made progress through the station. He made sure she was in bed and sleeping before he left. It was no big deal. He was
a doctor, and if she smiled too much and touched him, it was nothing. Sickbay was empty when he returned, and he found some
place to sit. He was tired.
"You are exhausted."
"I know." McCoy shrugged. "I'm heading
to bed. You?"
Spock shook his head. "It would be unwise.
I can go two more days without requiring sleep."
"And the Enterprise will be here in three." McCoy hated to agree, but he did. "How's morale?"
"I'm not able to ascertain that." Spock
pulled him up. "I will take you to our quarters. You will rest."
McCoy loaded a hypospray and gave himself
one more. He reloaded it with a dose of vitamins and minerals and gave it to Spock, who merely raised an eyebrow. "Lt. Staler
is in her quarters. I don't want her on duty for two more shifts."
"I may require her before that." Spock
pursed his lips. "I will wait as long as is advisable."
McCoy thought the walk to their quarters
had gotten longer. He went straight to the bed, yanked off his boots, and laid down. "Listen to your CMO."
Spock sat down next to him, pulling the
blanket up, his hand caressed McCoy's face. //Sleep. Heal//
McCoy couldn't answer. He was out.
Spock spent five more seconds with McCoy
than was sufficient. His name was Leonard. It made Spock uneasy to think of him that way, but their relationship had moved
beyond official designations. It had been three weeks and two days. They were still coming to understand what lie between
them. Would they bond? Could they? Spock admitted to uncertainty. McCoy's psi abilities were low. It was probable that the
bond would be weak, even breakable, and that would be a disaster for both of them. Spock locked the door behind him. The situation
on this space station had improved, but there were many areas left to repair. He headed straight for the transporter station.
It needed an upgrade.
McCoy pushed his feet into his boots and
got moving. Spock would need him. Spock did need him. McCoy's first stop was finding Lt. Staler. She needed a checkup before
he dealt with anything else. She was in her quarters and looked happy to see him.
"How are you?" McCoy ran the Feinberger
over her before the words were out of his mouth. She was fine, but her body needed some vitamins. It must be the food replicators.
"Come to the sickbay with me. I want to completely check you out."
She nodded and led the way. McCoy smiled.
She was trying to prove she was ready. He pointed to the bio bed, and she hopped up on it. "I'm fit."
"I know you think you are." McCoy took
his time. She was healthy. "Looks good. Did you sleep?"
"Yes. Eight hours."
McCoy nodded. He'd slept nine. He gave
her two shots and asked, "How is the moral on this station?"
"Poor. Our commander didn't care about
anything. I've worked two months with little help." Lt. Staler frowned. "On a space station it is easy to let things lie,
put things off, and become lax. It's boring."
"I understand. You need a better commander."
"Someone like Commander Spock." Lt. Staler
leaned forward. "If he stays, will you?"
"Lieutenant, that's not going to happen.
Spock is devoted to the Enterprise and Captain Kirk. He'll
do his best, but he'll leave."
"And you?" She slid off the bio bed and
took his hand. "You?"
McCoy shook his head. "I'm assigned to
the Enterprise. That won't be changing."
"I understand. Our little space station
is too crappy for a fine physician like you."
Her bitterness was easy for McCoy to hear.
He squeezed her hand. "I go where the patients are, and where Spock is."
Her reaction took a moment, but her mouth
fell open. "You're a couple?"
"Yes." McCoy dropped her hand. "You've
had a remarkable recovery. Go to work."
Lt. Staler snapped her mouth shut. "I apologize.
You two don't even seem to like each other. I'm reporting to the bridge."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." McCoy turned and
put his instruments away. He opened another box and began to stow things away. Now, he'd arrange this sickbay correctly. He
worked through another protein bar, listening to the intercom. Twice, he heard Spock summoned to a catastrophe. McCoy refused
to worry. No one was more competent than Spock. McCoy set two broken bones and healed one nasty rash.
McCoy nearly dropped the box of ointments.
He stowed it away carefully and turned. "So you do know my name."
Spock raised his eyebrow. "Will you eat
"Yes, of course." McCoy swept his arm to
emphasize. "I'm about done."
"It is more than sufficient. There is no
one with any experience that might be useful to you. I am the most qualified." Spock shook his head. "I am not available."
"Good. You'd argue about every diagnosis."
McCoy followed him back to the rec room. The two ensigns there looked up, but neither of them moved - a small improvement.
They ordered their food and sat down with it. "The replicator is missing key vitamins and minerals that humanoids require."
"I am uncertain as to why it is functioning
at all." Spock's moved his hands into the familiar steeple configuration and shut his eyes.
McCoy nearly burst out laughing. He controlled
himself, giving out only a small chuckle. Spock was clearly reaching the end of his reserves, and a day early. "Spock, please
Spock didn't answer. He breathed. McCoy
ate his food and tried not to think too loudly. He knew meditating was nearly as important as sleep for a Vulcan. Spock opened
his eyes and began eating. "I will sleep for two hours, now that Lt. Staler is at her post."
McCoy nodded. "Good." He watched Spock
eat. "I've missed you." It was true, but he almost wished the words back.
Spock put his hand on McCoy's arm. //I
have regretted the fact we have had no time//
McCoy concentrated. This wasn't easy for
him. //Thank you//
Spock squeezed and released. They put their
trays in the recycler and headed to their quarters. McCoy knelt and removed Spock's boots before a protest could ring in his
ears. Spock put a hand on McCoy's shoulder. They shared a long quiet moment. McCoy pushed him back and covered him. "Sleep.
If there's a problem, I'll wake you."
Spock nodded and shut his eyes. McCoy sat
next to him, but was careful not to touch him. It would keep him from sleeping. This relationship wouldn't last, and McCoy
would have to enjoy every minute of it. Time would work against him. Captain Kirk may change his mind, or McCoy would simply
get too old, too fast. He still wasn't sure what it was that had drawn Spock to him. It couldn't be the sex. That was available
anywhere. McCoy had a hard time believing it was his stellar qualities or fine mind. Somewhere out there in space was the
man that McCoy had assumed would spend a lifetime with Spock.
The two hours passed quickly. McCoy was
tempted to let him sleep longer, but couldn't do it. He placed one finger on the back of Spock's hand.
"Thank you, Leonard."
"My pleasure, Spock." McCoy stretched.
"I'm going back to work."
"The salt mines?" Spock lifted his eyebrow.
McCoy laughed and nodded. "It feels that
way today." He stood up and went to use the fresher. Finished, he was surprised Spock was still around. "You okay?"
Spock came over to him. "You are aware
that Vulcans bond with their mates?"
"Of course I am." McCoy's mind clanged
with shock. "Is that what we are?"
"If my parents came aboard the Enterprise, I would introduce you as such." Spock stood very straight.
"Vulcans do not 'play the field.'"
"I never thought they even knew where the
field was located." McCoy looked at Spock's boots. "Won't Jim always stand between us?"
Spock made no answer until McCoy looked
up into those dark eyes. "There is much Captain Kirk and I share, but there will never be this." He kissed McCoy gently, teasing
with his tongue. McCoy felt his knees wobble. Spock pulled away. "You are a gifted counselor. Tell me what happens when two
dominant males meet under primitive conditions."
"They usually fight." McCoy took a breath.
"You aren't dominant, not over Jim."
"Correct. He is the captain. I have chosen
to follow him, but no other."
McCoy clenched his hands. "And when he
crooks his finger at you, you'll go. It'll happen. Trust me."
"It already has occurred. I declined."
Spock's breath was slightly uneven, only a doctor would notice. "I have no wish to be submissive there." And he pointed at
McCoy took a step back. He'd known it.
"I'm submissive." If Spock answered, McCoy didn't hear him. The words rang loud in his head. "You want me because I'll spread
my legs and beg for more."
Spock gripped him tightly and thrust his
hand at McCoy's face. McCoy instinctively struggled, trying to thrust the powerful hand away. Spock lowered his head. "Leonard."
"I don't want you inside me - not right
now!" McCoy gave a final shove.
Spock released him and took two steps back.
"I have duties." He tugged his shirt down.
"Yes. Yes, you do." McCoy turned his back.
He had to think, and it was impossible while he was looking at Spock. "I'll finish sickbay."
The door shut. Spock was gone. McCoy went
to the rec room, got some coffee, and went to work. He'd see Spock later, and they'd talk again. Submissive. He was submissive.
That's why Spock didn't give him a turn. Spock wanted someone who'd take it, like it, and shut up about it. Good old Doctor
McCoy fit the bill nicely. McCoy took a deep breath. He was very angry, and he needed to work. The last two boxes emptied
out quickly enough, and he found places for the equipment. That done, he went through the entire sickbay again and checked
everything one more time.
McCoy took his head out of a cabinet and
"I'm your first physical." The young man
"Good. Let's get started."
Spock refused to consider his disagreement
with his mate until his duties were complete. It was unfortunate that their meld was so weak that they couldn't understand
the intent behind the words, but they'd learn to communicate. Rising, he made one final adjustment to the transporter. This
was an excellent machine; it had needed little work. Someone had fine-tuned it to settings that were impossible on the Enterprise. Who? And why? He ran his hands over the console one more
time. There was a hidden button; his sensitive fingers could feel it. He pressed it. The transporter made no sound, but there
was a click underneath it. He knelt and found a hidden drawer had popped open. Inside there was an armband. He pulled it out
and inspected it carefully. If he weren't mistaken, this would remotely activate the transporter. Such devices were being
discussed in scientific circles, but no one had manufactured one. He placed the device on a crate and activated it. The crate
disappeared and reappeared on the transporter pad. It worked. Fascinating.
"Need any help, Commander?"
Spock picked up the device. "I am finished
here. We should start on the food systems. Dr. McCoy informs me that there are nutritional deficiencies."
"Really?" Lt. Staler smiled. "Dr. McCoy
is a fine physician. I wish we could keep him."
"He will be returning with me to the Enterprise." Spock strapped the device to his wrist and pulled his shirt
"He told me. I asked him to stay." She
Spock noticed the physical reaction. "How
is Lt. Allen?"
"He still won't talk. He's crouched in
the corner, whimpering." Lt. Staler shrugged. "He appears very frightened."
Spock nodded. The odds were good that Lt.
Allen's assessment of the situation was correct. Fear was a powerful motivator, perhaps it was time for another conversation.
"I'm going to the brig and sickbay. Please have the computer do a diagnostic of the replicator."
"Yes sir." Lt. Staler went away quickly.
She was an adequate officer. Had she propositioned McCoy? It didn't matter. McCoy belonged with him on the Enterprise.
"Dr. McCoy, please report to the brig."
McCoy finished his exam of the ensign in
front of him. "We're done. You're fine. Come back later, and I'll give you something for the acne."
McCoy nodded, put his notes away, and headed
for the brig. Spock was waiting outside. "Dr. McCoy, I wish to prevaricate, and I require your assistance."
"You mean 'lie.' Sure. It'll be fun to
watch you try." McCoy nodded. "What should I do?"
"Exactly what I tell you."
"I'm getting better at that." McCoy shrugged.
Spock took off his blue science shirt, leaving only the black underneath. He folded it and placed it outside the door. McCoy
felt his pulse quicken. Spock was going to lie. This was going to be good. He opened the door and took McCoy by the arm in
a strong grip, dragging him inside. The ensign on duty opened his mouth.
"Out, Ensign." Spock snapped the words.
McCoy struggled. It was natural as breathing. He wasn't going to be manhandled by anyone, and the fact that Spock held him
easily was infuriating. Spock gave him a small shake. "Lt. Allen is as stubborn as you are, Dr. McCoy."
"Commander Spock, let me go!"
Allen was up and watching closely; his
body tense. Spock shook his head and shoved McCoy to his knees. McCoy stayed there and raised his hands to protect his face.
"Just tell me what you want."
"The Romulan Empire requires a doctor on
board this space station. If you can't fulfill your duties, you'll go in there with him. I will create charges to keep you
McCoy clutched his chest. Allen broke.
"You're no Romulan!"
Spock left McCoy to pace over to the force
field. "Are you completely certain?"
Allen moaned. "No! Yes! Wait! I have to
"Do that, Lieutenant." Spock circled around
McCoy. "Which will it be, Doctor?"
The quiet menace in Spock's voice made
McCoy's hair stand on end. McCoy wasn't sure what to say, and in that blink of an eye, Spock picked him up by the throat,
turning slightly. The turn was to prevent the lieutenant from seeing Spock's other hand, which was bracing McCoy at the sternum,
McCoy had no trouble acting horrified,
even terrified. He struggled and finally gasped, "Okay! Okay! I'm your doctor!"
Spock shook him and tossed him, but gently,
which was hard enough. McCoy managed to land on his feet and roll back to the floor. He stayed down, near the force field.
Spock put his fists on his hips and speared Allen with glare. "Instruct him as to his job here. I'll be on the bridge."
Allen babbled, "I-I-I, wait! Let me out!"
"That is impossible. Because of your precipitous
actions, everyone knows who you are. We require a doctor. This one will do fine." Spock gestured at McCoy. "Return to sickbay
when you're finished here."
"Yes sir," McCoy whispered. He was sure
his eyes were huge. Spock left the brig after one more glare at McCoy. It made Allen whimper. McCoy shook his head. That hadn't
been fun, not at all, more like frightening, even for him. Spock had no trouble playing the dominant male. McCoy stood up
and brushed himself off. Spock was a dominant male.
"Allen, talk. Now." McCoy didn't look at
him directly. "I have no desire to be in the brig or dead of a snapped neck."
"I reprogrammed the replicators. The food
is laced with a drug that slows humanoids down."
"You mean it makes them lazy?"
"Yes. It encourages them not to do much
of anything, but sit around. I also give reports on all the vessels that dock, their cargoes and destinations. My long range
sub space communicator is hidden in sickbay behind a trick panel under the bio bed." Allen sighed. "Spock is probably giving
reports now, but you need to monitor everyone's drug level."
"I'll do it." McCoy frowned. "Are they
"I don't know." Allen went to the bunk
and sat down. "I hope not. This brig is better than being dead."
"Good point." McCoy took a step away. "Anything
"A good portion of the crew is dependent
upon a drug I gave out - Cocicylanide." Allen smiled. "There are going to be problems if they don't get it. Spock will have
his hands full!" He laughed and laughed.
McCoy didn't stay to hear another word.
He had to head this off now. Cocicylanide was highly addictive, and sudden withdrawal led to violence. He walked so fast that
it might be considered running.
Spock was waiting for him in sickbay. "Report,
"The food replicator is programmed to deliver
a drug that impairs function. He also has the crew hooked on Cocicylanide, and he was sending reports with a long range communicator."
McCoy went to the bio bed, found the panel, and managed to open it. He pulled out the device and handed it to Spock. "If we
don't make a report . . ."
"They will most likely attack, and sending
a false report is problematic. You deal with drugs. Lt. Staler is working on the replicator. I'll order emergency rations
until it is fixed." Spock touched McCoy on the arm. "You did an excellent job."
"Thank you. You were scary as hell. This
drug has affected you. It's why you had to sleep." McCoy tried frantically to think of an instant cure. "Carry water with
you. Drink as much as you can."
"And you? You have been eating also."
"But not as often as you. I've been eating
the protein bars that came with the medical supplies."
Spock squeezed McCoy's arm. "You are not
"Of course not. I'm tough. Haven't you
noticed? I have a big problem on my hands. You go play and let me work." McCoy patted Spock's hand. He went to the computer.
He'd synthesize something to help these poor bastards through detox. This station was on the brink of a real disaster.
Spock said in a very low voice, "You are
McCoy turned, but Spock's back was clearing
the door. He wouldn't shout after him. Their sex life would have to wait. People needed his help.
Captain Kirk tapped his fingers on the
armrest. "Lt. Uhura, have we heard from Spock?"
"No sir. I've been listening for a message."
Lt. Uhura turned her chair. "Shall I open a channel to him?"
"No, no. I'm sure everything is all right."
Captain Kirk smoothed the hairs down on the back of his neck. His two finest officers were working, that's all. He swiveled
back to the viewscreen. "Go to warp four."
McCoy found a drug to help detox half of
the crew, but it would take three hours to synthesize enough to disperse. Which members of the crew were infected? That was
his next problem. He found his tricorder and made the decision not to wait for trouble. He'd go find it. Stepping out of sickbay,
he spotted a solution.
"Yes, Dr. McCoy?"
"I need your help." McCoy gave him a smile.
The ensign nodded. "I'd be glad to. Thanks
to you we're rid of our voodoo doctor." The ensign smiled - nervously. "A lot of us wouldn't go near sickbay unless we were
McCoy frowned. "I need to track down everyone
on this station. You'll be my guide."