Two Faces One Hate

Title: Two Faces One Hate

Author: K'Chaps

Pairing: S/Mc

Rating: Very Adult. If you're squeamish - at all - don't read.

Summary: Mirror McCoy returns to his ship to find that things have changed dramatically.

Note: This is the mirror story to Two Faces One Love. Reading the first one isn't necessary, but they do echo each other. I hope.

Beta: Lyrastar - Thanks. All remaining errors are mine, mine, mine.




No one went in the agony booth willingly. McCoy struggled futilely against the bulging muscles of the security guards - Kirk's goons. Uhura's screams rang in their ears. They had dragged Scotty's unconscious body away long ago.


Kirk made a sharp gesture, and Uhura was out. She collapsed, and Chekov was there to catch her. "May I have her, Keptin?"


"No bruises - where I can see them." Kirk grinned. "Her shift starts in eight hours. I want her there on time."


Chekov smiled nastily, agreed, and she was gone with him. McCoy bared his teeth and lunged desperately, trying to escape.


Kirk pointed. "Your turn, Doctor."


"No!" McCoy struggled, but it was hopeless, and he knew it. "Why? Tell me why?"


Kirk smirked and struck him across the face. "Try to figure it out - while you're screaming."


McCoy did just that.




Light penetrated his brain, and he started moving before thinking. He hit the bulkhead hard and slid down it. Every muscle in his body ached, even some that shouldn't.


"Welcome home, Doctor."


McCoy fought his way to his feet. His legs shook, but he managed to stay up. "Get out! This is my sickbay!"


"No longer." Spock's dark eyes were triumphant. "The captain feels that you can no longer be trusted. He has asked me to supervise you - closely."


"The captain and I had a deal!" Desperation clawed at him. He wiped some spittle from his mouth and swayed. "A deal!"


"Shouting will not change the facts." Spock idly picked up a scanner. "The captain has changed his mind, as is his privilege."


McCoy dropped to his knees and threw up. Dots swam in front of his eyes, and he couldn't seem to take a deep breath. Cramps in his major muscle groups made him cry out. Spock walked over to him and stood there. Bastard. McCoy didn't even try to look at him. A boot shoved him down in his own vomit.


"I hate you!"


"Terror can be sweet." Spock pinned him to the floor. "You and your chamber of horrors are now mine. There has been a power shift on this ship. If you are useful, you will live."


McCoy wasn't sure he cared to do that. He groaned and gasped, "I liked you better without a beard." The impact of the boot stunned him into silence. He retched and tried to cover his face. His groin exploded in pain, and he dropped his hands. He saw the boot coming for his jaw, and then, nothing.




"Kill him, and we'll pick up another doctor at the next starbase," Kirk snarled. "He can't be trusted."


"He will learn to be useful, even obedient." Spock wiped his boot on McCoy's blue tunic. "You have allowed him his own kingdom down here, but that is at an end."


"Is that criticism, Spock?"


Spock fingered his knife. "No, but for now, he is mine."


"For now." Kirk rubbed his jaw. "Keep him in line. One hint of betrayal and I'll toss him out an airlock."


Spock nodded. "As you wish. What are your orders in regards to the Halkans?"


"We'll remain in orbit until I receive further orders from the Empire." Kirk sat on his heels and stared at McCoy. "The other Spock could have left commands in McCoy's subconscious."


"If my counterpart had morals, he would never consider such an act." Spock gave McCoy another kick.


"Morals? I doubt it, but he was weak." Kirk spat on the doctor. "McCoy was never much of an ally."


"He'll learn his new place - quickly."




McCoy fumbled up and crawled for the drawer with the narcotics. He almost made it, but Nurse Chapel plucked it from his fingers. "Give me that!"


"Spock said no." Nurse Chapel put it away, shut the drawer, and locked it.


McCoy wanted to strangle her. He used some equipment to pull himself up so he could do just that. "So, you're in bed with Spock, huh?"


Nurse Chapel smiled at him. "He'll protect us from Kirk and his perversions! You never even tried!"


"We'll see about that!" McCoy quivered in pain and revulsion. He was too weak to kill a fly, much less a nurse who would fight back. "I'm going to my quarters to clean up."


"Good idea." The bitch flounced away. He had never liked her much, and if she was going to be Spock's whore, she was expendable.


McCoy stumbled to the turbolift and wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to quell the shaking. He was weak - too weak. Easy prey for the captain and his first officer, and there were few options. An alliance with Sulu was out of the question. Sulu was psychotic. McCoy locked his door, not that it would do any damn good, and made it to the bathroom. Bruises and vomit covered him, and he stripped off his clothes in disgust. The sonic did its job, and it was a relief. Too bad that it couldn't heal his bruises. He cupped his aching balls and let out a soft sob. Damn that Spock.


"Dr. McCoy, I require your presence."


McCoy clutched his stomach and doubled over. He hated Spock. He always had. The other one, without the beard, had been just as bad. That one had been quiet, and the quiet ones were always dangerous. McCoy emptied his stomach again.


"Even among the medical profession, you are weak."


McCoy wiped his mouth with a towel and stayed on the floor. He didn't try to get up, and he watched the black boots warily. "What do you want, Spock?"


Spock held out a hypospray. "I have a painkiller for you."


"What do I have to do to earn it?" McCoy knew this game very well. He'd invented it.


"Nothing. For now." Spock gave him the hypospray. McCoy slumped further. He'd pay for this, and the cost would be high. Almost instantly, he began to lose his aches and pains, and his mind cleared. He tried to stand, and Spock stepped back. McCoy eased his way up and waited for the kicker. Nothing was free in this universe. Spock grasped him firmly by the arm and took him towards the bed.


McCoy thought he understood, and he began to fight. "No! Please. No!"


"Lie down!" Spock commanded.


"No!" The strong grip trapped him.


Spock shook him and threw him on the bed. "You will obey me in the future. Captain Kirk wants to push you out an airlock. I am the only thing standing between you and that fate."


McCoy stared in shock. An airlock? "I did nothing to deserve this!"


"He believes that you conspired with the other Spock and no longer trusts you." Spock crossed his arms. "I have never considered you worth my time or effort, but my encounter with your double has made me reconsider."


"Nothing happened!" McCoy scrambled under the blankets to put something between his naked body and his tormentor. "That Spock was weak! He asked a few stupid questions that I refused to answer. It was nothing."


"The captain feels otherwise. He is furious." Spock raised his eyebrow. "Which would you prefer: me or the airlock?"


"The airlock." McCoy meant it. He glared, but it was cheap drama. "May I have the hypospray?"


"No." Spock tucked it away. "I require a strong ally. You have failed the captain, but you will not fail me."


"I hate you." McCoy felt the hate deeply. Damn Vulcans were always pushing people around. They were the worst of all the alien races that the Empire had encountered and attempted to conquer.


Spock nodded and stepped towards the door. "You are confined to quarters until I release you."


"Get out!" McCoy went ahead and yelled. It was probably safe now. Spock was leaving anyway. "Out!"


Spock gave him a look that was more dangerous than a sharp knife and left. McCoy could see the men posted at his door. He was stuck in here until Spock let him out. Damn. Damn. Damn. McCoy slid off the bed and went straight for his supply of bourbon. It was gone. There was a note. Your life is mine. He sank to his knees and held himself. He was dead. Screwed. Probably screwed first and then dead, but either way, he was dead. He crawled to the bed and got back under the covers. His hands shook, and his mind reeled from one two many shocks in a short amount of time. That nasty Vulcan on the other side had ratted him out. Filled the captain's ears with lies. Captain Kirk had very few enemies because most were dead.


McCoy groaned and covered his face. He had one chance to save himself, and he'd have to use it carefully. Shutting his eyes, he remembered. The other Spock had taken him from the brig and questioned him alone. That Spock had been quiet and . . . kind, but McCoy had still hated him. They hadn't touched. Nothing. It was nothing, and it had led to all this. Sleep crept up on him, and he sank into it gratefully.




The smell of food woke him, and he rubbed his eyes with shaking hands. He ached, and he needed a drink. Sitting up, he blearily focused on Spock, calmly sitting near McCoy's desk. McCoy's stomach turned completely over, and he moaned softly.


"Come to me."


McCoy heard the command. His life depended on his ability to obey, and it just wasn't in him. "I need a drink." His body protested the movement, and he made it to the bathroom before throwing up nothing at all. His stomach was empty. He leaned against the wall and craved whiskey, or his favorite bourbon or even a beer would do.


"I have a painkiller."


McCoy flinched. He needed it. He did. Now. He covered his still tender balls and slunk out to the main room. "May I have it?" He knew the answer.


"Come here." Spock played a hard game, and he probably always won. McCoy went, trembling. The airlock looked pretty good right now. Spock pointed at the floor. "Kiss my boot and say thank you."


McCoy wasn't going to do it. He wasn't. The metal of the hypospray shined brightly, and he dropped to his knees. He couldn't do this. "Thank you," he said and kissed Spock's boot. The hiss of the hypospray was a beautiful sound. Spock used the boot to push him down, and he stayed there. Spock ate his breakfast with his boot firmly planted McCoy's neck. It was humiliating, but the drug washed away so much pain. McCoy could see how the next few days were going to go - any fool could. There had to be a way to fight, but damned if he knew it.


"I raped your mirror brother."


McCoy covered his mouth with his hand to prevent the scream from getting out. He'd known a man that had been raped by a Vulcan. The man had killed himself and died smiling. If Spock had raped the other McCoy, it was obvious who was next.


"It was fascinating." Spock's boot pressed harder. "He desired a Vulcan, perhaps not me, but he wanted it."


McCoy didn't believe that for a moment, and he struggled to breathe. Spock was merciless. His boot eased, and McCoy hastened to fill his lungs. Spock might toy with him all day.


Spock's fork clattered down. "Your computer files are grounds for court martial. Spend this day organizing them according to Empire guidelines."


"Or what?" McCoy managed to say. It was foolish, and he knew it.


Spock stood up. "Castration would be a daily reminder to follow my orders."


McCoy covered his face. He could organize a few files. "Get out," he whispered. The boot slipped off McCoy's neck. He held his breath as the boot nudged his balls. McCoy waited for them to be kicked off, but Spock merely left the room. The door immediately opened again, and Spock's bodyguard strode inside. McCoy scrabbled up and ran, but it didn't save him from the beating.




"Is McCoy dead yet?"


"He may wish he were dead, but no. He will be useful." Spock put his hands behind his back. "Has she given you what you need?"


"No," Kirk growled softly.


Spock took another step inside the captain's quarters. "I can extract the information with a mindmeld."


"Do it! Find out where the Tantalus device is," Kirk said. He struck her again as she hung in restraints. "Then kill her."


Spock pressed his fingers into the woman's face. She bucked under his hand until she slumped, and her eyes rolled back.


"Well?" Kirk raised his hand to strike her again.


"She told the other captain about it, and he destroyed it with his phaser." Spock stepped away and wiped his hand on his trousers. "She died from your ministrations, not mine."


Kirk paced. "She said that! I didn't believe her! I don't believe it!"


"He was a weak man motivated by pity." Spock went to the door. "What was the device for?"


Kirk wiped his mouth. "It doesn't matter now, but things are going to get messy around here."




McCoy dressed quickly, his hands never stopped shaking, and the narcotic was wearing off. Spock would have McCoy kissing ass for it, and he'd do it. He searched every hiding spot he had for brandy, but Spock had done a clean sweep. There was nothing, not even an analgesic for mild headaches. McCoy trembled and sat down at his computer. His teeth chattered, and his fingers could barely function, but his brain worked, and he began to get his files in order. He didn't want to, but he was scared not to do it. The files were a mess. He hadn't done it out of laziness, and the fact that he'd rather be drinking. Licking his lips, he considered water, but he had none. There was nothing in his quarters to drink or eat, and trying to leave would cost him more bruises. The door opened, and McCoy tried not to cringe.


Spock surveyed him with his usual disdain. "Commendable. You are making progress."


McCoy nodded. He didn't trust his mouth not to curse. Clasping his hands, he waited. Spock would be a brute. It was what he did.


"I am going to the rec room for lunch. Would you care to join me?" Spock toyed with his knife. He wasn't really asking. He was telling.


"I'm not sure I can walk." McCoy told the honest truth. He hurt so badly. The bodyguard had pummeled McCoy's thighs before using the agonizer on him.


"I give you permission to crawl behind me." Spock smoothed his tunic. "Perhaps, when we return, I will alleviate your pain."


McCoy understood now why the bodyguard had only struck him on the legs. He licked his lips again and tried to stand. His left leg cramped, but he managed to stumble behind Spock to the turbolift. The door shut, and Spock pinned him against the wall. McCoy had no strength to resist. He wanted to curse and scream, but nothing came out. He was beat, and Spock knew it. Spock fit his hand onto McCoy's face.


I need you against the captain.


I'm against you.


Spock's mouth slipped across McCoy's bruised jaw, making him gasp in horror. "You will change your mind."


McCoy doubted it. Vulcans were the scum of the universe, and he'd rather ally himself with a pack of Klingons. He felt his legs give out, and Spock allowed him to fall.




Spock said nothing. He stepped away. McCoy thought he'd be struck unconscious for that, but after a moment, he realized that the shame of crawling through the hallway would be his punishment. "Spock. Please. The hypospray."


"Nurse Chapel has reorganizing sickbay. She is a more than competent nurse."


McCoy gave up, for now. Chapel had thrown out or sold his supply of whiskey and drugs, and he was at Spock's mercy. Things had unraveled so quickly. He'd gone from Kirk's favorite to Spock's plaything in record time, and he'd done nothing wrong! The door opened, and Spock stepped away briskly. McCoy forced himself up and after him. He had to have the narcotic now. His body hunched, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out, but he made it half the distance to the rec room before falling. He'd never get to his feet again. He'd gone as far as he could.


The resounding kick to his stomach made sure he wouldn't get up. "Down where you belong, eh, Bones?"


McCoy whimpered. Spock was near him. "Pain focuses the mind."


"It does indeed." Kirk laughed. McCoy hated them both, but he hated Spock more. Kirk was, at least, Human. "You need a leash for your new pet."


"You are more experienced in these matters." Spock nudged McCoy. "Crawl."


Kirk laughed. Spock walked, and McCoy crawled after him. Nothing mattered now except the drug. The rec room was busy, but everyone had time to laugh at Doctor Death. McCoy had liked that nickname. He curled up at Spock's boots and let the laughter pour over him. He'd get them back, as soon as he had his hands on a laser scalpel. Spock gave him a glass of water. That was all. That was lunch. Spock and Kirk ate, talked, and enjoyed a game of chess. McCoy managed to drink his water. He spilled a drop or two with his shaking hands, but most of it went down him. If he threw it up on Spock's boots, it would be sweet revenge, unless Spock made him lick it up.


"Electrical storms are raging again over the surface of the planet," Spock said. "The effect on the dilithium crystals is remarkable."


Kirk idly gave McCoy a kick. "If we could just use the phasers, this would be over!"


"My calculations indicate that using the phasers will set off a chain reaction in the crystals. The entire planet will explode. That outcome will gain us nothing."


McCoy wasn't sure he believed that. But Kirk must have because the Halkans were still alive.


"The Empire will tell us what to do. We can wait. The Halkans are idiots."


McCoy agreed with that. They should have rolled to their bellies. Didn't they understand that the Empire would kill them all for the precious dilithium? For him though, none of it mattered. He shoved his hands between his thighs and waited for another kick.


Spock braced his boot on McCoy's back. "Occasionally, death is preferable to slavery."


"I wonder which McCoy will choose," Kirk said with a laugh. "Checkmate."


McCoy wondered that also. He didn't want to die, but it might be better than living as Spock's toy. Was Spock against the captain? Was it possible? McCoy sat up, not much, but enough. "Spock, may I please have another glass of water?"


Spock fixed him with a terrible look. Kirk slapped the back of McCoy's head. Spock leaned close and asked, "Is that your choice?"


"Please." McCoy had no doubt he looked pitiful. Dying didn't look that bad from where he was standing, well, sitting. Spock delivered the water, and McCoy said, "Thank you."


"There's your answer, Spock." Kirk stood. "If you'd have seen him licking that other Vulcan's boots, you'd snap his neck!"


McCoy drank his water as fast as possible. He hadn't done anything with the other Spock except talk. He hadn't. Damn it.


Spock shrugged. "He will be licking mine later."


McCoy felt the universe fall away from him.




"Any hope that he's dead?"


"Unconscious. Lack of food, dehydration, and more pain than his nervous system could withstand caused this." Spock motioned to his bodyguard. "Carry him."


Kirk put his hands on his hips. "Agony booth?"


"It would kill him, and I maintain that he will be of use, eventually." Spock cleaned off the table.


"Shame." Kirk took a step away. "I'm off to find Yeoman Barrows. She owes me."


Spock nodded and used the hypospray on the unconscious body of the doctor. "Take him to his bed."


"Yes, sir."




McCoy clutched his head and moaned as if he were dying. He hoped he was, but that devil Spock would probably keep him around to play with. Once again, he could smell food, and this time his stomach lurched hopefully.


"Crawl to me and beg."


McCoy fell off the bed, crawled until he spotted Spock's boot, and put his head on it. This was the best of a bad bunch of choices. "Please. Kill. Me. Please."


Spock stroked his hand down McCoy's back. "Your hate is still in your heart."


"Please. Please. Death would be a kindness." McCoy had killed in kindness - often. He hated the touch of the Vulcan's hand on him. It was filthy, but it wouldn't stop him from begging. "Mercy?"


"I have no kindness or mercy for you. I am Vulcan." Spock gripped him by the hair and pulled him up. "Eat and then work on your files. Do not dress."


McCoy bit back the question that had earned him a beating last time. He crossed his arms and nodded. It was all the obedience he had in him.


"It is a beginning." Spock stood without releasing McCoy's hair, and McCoy was tucked firmly into the Vulcan's groin. McCoy shuddered in revulsion, but he didn't dare fight or say a word. The hypospray connected with his arm, and it was worth it. Spock put him in the chair and left him.


McCoy sat and shook until the pain reliever shoved it all away. Only then did he mutter, "Kirk's buttboy." It was a weak insult, but it might be true, and the thought made him feel better about his own wretched state. What he'd give for a shot of whiskey, but he slowly ate the oatmeal in front of him. He needed the energy. When the food was gone, McCoy sat there a moment to see if it would stay down, and it did. He drank the water slowly and limped to the chair in front of the computer. No pain was a wonderful thing. He felt as if he could think today, and he organized the files quickly, but he also plotted against his keeper.


Spock was a legend in the Empire - impossible to kill, loyal to Kirk, and an implacable enemy, but he must have a weak spot. McCoy didn't know what it was, but maybe he could find out. Drugs? No. Women? Not likely. Spock was never led around by his cock. His family was impenetrable. McCoy sighed. He should kill himself, but it wasn't as easy as it seemed. Kirk was the key here. What had happened to enrage him? McCoy ignored the computer for a moment. He needed a private moment with Kirk, to remind him of certain things, and Spock was getting in the way of that.


"Dr. McCoy?" The door shut.


McCoy looked there, but didn't care. "What is it?"


"You have to help me!"


McCoy stayed at his desk. A week ago, there might have been something he could have done, but now he had nothing, or it appeared that way. "Get out. I'm nothing but Spock's boy now."


She whimpered and sank down to cry. He rubbed his face. She cried louder. "Please!"


McCoy knew two things. One, there was security at his door, and two, she never would have gotten in if someone hadn't sent her. He pushed his chair back and limped to her, but didn't touch her. "You're on your own - like all of us."


She reached, and he hopped back. "McCoy!" It was a plaintive wail, and it didn't move him at all. He'd suffered worse, and he would again at the hands of Spock. The thought of the Vulcan's anger made him quiver on the inside. Spock said he never got angry. Right. McCoy edged back, and she lunged at him. In his weakened state, she was strong enough to take him down, but he managed to crawl away and curl up in a corner. He hid his face in his arms and waited.


Right on schedule, the door opened. "Get up, Yeoman Barrows," Spock said.


She cried some more, but McCoy didn't even listen. He could only hope the bodyguard beat him, not Spock. Kirk laughed in his demented way. "There you are, Yeoman. I'm not quite finished."


She screamed, but it weakened as Kirk dragged her from the room. Spock's boots tapped over to him. "You are overplaying your hand. Get back to work."


"Yes, sir." McCoy hobbled to his computer. He'd been acting. He wasn't terrified, not at all. "May I please have some more water?"


"Later." Spock left him.


McCoy hid his eyes for a moment. He wasn't beaten, not yet. There had to be a way to kill them both. Sulu would love him for it, but Sulu was crazy and would kill him to watch him scream. McCoy stared into the darkness of his eyelids and thought about his counterpart. Had the other McCoy killed himself? Or was he sitting down to a nice breakfast with a nice Vulcan? McCoy pressed a hand into his stomach and went back to work. It was evening before a guard delivered a small meal and two glasses of water. McCoy glared at him, but refused to speak and lose the food. He sat and ate, trying to tell himself that he wasn't obedient. When the food was gone, he turned off his computer and went to bed. He put his hands under his armpits and shut his eyes. Sleeping would be an escape, for a little while.




"Where is the yeoman?"


"In my quarters, tied to the divider screen. Why?" Kirk looked up from his plate. "Did you want her?"


"No. You sent her to McCoy."


"Of course. He needed a test." Kirk nodded. "The old McCoy would have promised her the moon and fucked her right there on the floor."


"He knew you were testing him. He is not a fool." Spock sipped his tea. "The test will come when I allow him to return to work."


Kirk shrugged. "I may kill him."


Spock ate his dinner. "You may."




McCoy rolled over to his stomach and cracked his eyelids. Black boots. Damn. He stiffened and waited. This could be bad.


"You will finish the files today." Spock pulled the covers down, and the air brushed McCoy's back and thighs. McCoy tensed. He also quivered. A Vulcan could kill a Human with his cock. There were documented cases.


"The captain wants to kill you. It is a curious thing. I thought he was merely angry, but now I believe that you possess some knowledge that the captain would prefer remain hidden."


McCoy tried to put his hands over his mouth, but Spock captured them and wrenched them behind McCoy's back. McCoy moaned. One dirty, Vulcan hand easily held both of his hands. There was nothing to say in this case. He had an option, but the time to play it was in question. When he felt a finger touch his asshole, he knew it was time. "Go ahead. Kill me. It'll make me happy!"


"There's the defiance." Spock's finger circled and dipped. "The hatred is still there. I respect your hatred. It is honest. Dim-witted, but honest. I am attempting to protect you, and you fight me every inch of the way."


McCoy's back arched as Spock lifted one hand and shoved his fingers deep. "No! Please!"


Spock pulled and pushed. "Your attitude towards me is irrational. There was another crew member who felt much the same, until I killed him."


McCoy knew it was stupid to fight, and honestly, he didn't have the strength. He would let the Vulcan humiliate him, but there would always be later. The fingers in his ass expertly stroked his prostate - pain and pleasure rippled. Spock was talking about something, but McCoy didn't listen. It didn't matter.


Spock released McCoy's arms. "On your back!"


"You don't want me!" McCoy's arms hurt, but he pushed up. "You hate me."


Spock put McCoy on his back, and he tried to lower his legs. The shame of this position tore through him. He pushed ineffectually at the Vulcan's arms. Spock slapped him. One blow, but it was enough to knock him half the way to unconscious. McCoy went limp. He hurt everywhere now, even his ass. Spock found a good grip on McCoy's cock.


"I want you to forget your prejudices and think."


McCoy shut his eyes and waited for his cock to be ripped off. "I've always hated Vulcans! You take what you want!"


"And the captain does not?" Spock looked down. "Your genitalia are adequate, for a Human."


McCoy wanted to cover himself and run. Instead, he made the worst choice of all. He grabbed for Spock's regulation knife in a desperate attempt to save himself. Spock broke McCoy's wrist with a quick twist, and McCoy howled, "Damn you to hell!"


"Your hell is right here. I have two words that I believe will ensure your obedience in the future." Spock gripped McCoy's face hard. McCoy would have more bruises. The pain throbbed and beat at him. It was just too much, and he quit, completely. His breath came hard and fast, sweat poured off him, and he didn't care what Spock had to say until the two words whispered over him. "Gary Mitchell."


McCoy whimpered from deep in his soul, and it all crashed in on him. Tremors ran the length of his body, and his vision dimmed for a moment. This couldn't happen. He hadn't betrayed Kirk, and it no longer mattered.


Spock left him to go to the intercom. "Spock to sickbay."


"Nurse Chapel here, sir."


"Bring a medikit to Dr. McCoy's quarters. He's had a small accident." Spock's voice seemed to come from very far away.


McCoy clutched his wrist to his chest and curled to his side. His universe was pain, and it was likely to continue that way. Gary Mitchell. No. Please. Any death but that one. "You did that?"


"Mr. Mitchell's intense dislike for Vulcans was an impediment to my career." Spock paced to him. "Somewhere on this ship, Captain Kirk is making plans to kill you. I suggest you grasp a sliver of sanity and shift your loyalties to me."


McCoy couldn't hide his trembling legs and arms. He'd known that this day would come. He had even prepared for it. If Spock had just stayed out of this, McCoy could have reasoned with Kirk, forced him, but there was no choice now.


"Kirk won't kill me. No matter what he says. On Starbase Ten, I coded specific information to be released upon my death." McCoy managed to shove the words out between clenched teeth. "There's a chip in my chest. If I die, it will transmit."


Spock put his hands behind his back. "Commendable precaution, but it appears it was in vain. Starbase Ten was destroyed last month - an explosion. We received the subspace communiqué shortly before you left for the surface of the Halkan planet."


McCoy watched his world disintegrate. It was over. His last chance. His last defiance. Gone. He shut his eyes. How had Kirk found out? McCoy had told no one. "How is it possible?" He wasn't asking Spock.


"That no longer matters." Spock grabbed McCoy's arm. The wrist screamed, and McCoy panted wildly. Spock turned McCoy's arm until the pain beat aside all thoughts. "The information is also on the chip."


McCoy hesitated, but he only had this chance. "Yes! If you try to rip it out, it will self-destruct, and I'll be dead!"


Spock began to twist McCoy's arm. The pain was excruciating, and McCoy saw nothing but a haze of pain.


"Mr. Spock?" Nurse Chapel asked.


"One moment," Spock said. "Dr. McCoy is faced with a decision. He may become my ally, or he can share the fate of a former first officer aboard this vessel."


McCoy screamed, but didn't answer. He couldn't think! He felt his bones grinding. Spock gave him no choices. "I want your word! Your word on the honor of your ancestors!"


"You believe you have room to negotiate?" Spock twisted no further though.


"There's a code. You don't get it unless you swear to protect me!" McCoy screamed. He was out of room to run, and his only choice was to capitulate, for now.


"I will take it and do with you as I choose." Spock's other hand came towards McCoy's face, and McCoy thrashed. "Give me your thoughts."


McCoy managed a barky laugh through the agony of his arm. "If your captain had a pet Vulcan, what precautions would you take?"


Spock slapped McCoy across the face. McCoy was about finished, but he'd win this. He had to or die. Spock's eyes grew darker, and he hissed, "I will protect you, as you belong to the House of T'Pau. I swear on the honor of my ancestors."


McCoy slumped in relief when he heard the words and his arm released. He had something, even if he'd pay for it every day. "Take me to sickbay." It was weak, and when Spock picked him up, he passed out.




"Rumor sent me down here." Kirk looked around in disgust. "This place reeks of death."


Spock nodded. "Dr. McCoy suffered an accident. He will recover."


"No. I don't think he will." Kirk put his hands on his hips and grinned. They walked together to the bio bed, and Kirk stared down at the sleeping doctor. "What the hell?"


"He is now a member of my house." Spock touched the red brand on McCoy's cheek. "His death would no longer serve your purpose."


Kirk recoiled. "You know!"


"I do. The information has been sent to a secure site on Vulcan." Spock opened his fist and a chip lay on his palm. "It changes very little, but I will have a larger role in the command of this vessel."


"Damn him!" Kirk whirled away, picked up a medikit, and threw it the length of sickbay. "Damn you both!"


"You have minimized my every move. That is at an end." Spock stood up very straight and placed the chip on the hilt of his knife. It adhered instantly. "And congratulations on the continuance of your bloodline."


Kirk's fists found a target in a hapless nurse that slunk past, and he didn't quit until blood stained the walls. Spock made no reaction. Kirk swaggered over to him. "You have me by the balls. I respect that. We've always worked well together. I expect that won't change."


Spock nodded. "It is a privilege to serve beside you."


"I'll speak to McCoy later." Kirk kicked the nurse a final time and went out the door.


Spock turned to lay a hand on McCoy's cheek. "You have exceeded my greatest expectations."




McCoy didn't open his eyes. He lay very still and did an inventory of his aches. The wrist had been healed, and he felt better, as if he'd been given fluids. Bruises still pinched here and there, but Spock wouldn't heal him completely.


"He's awake, Spock." Nurse Chapel was a bitch and a liability, and she didn't have long to live.


McCoy gasped when Spock picked him right up and carried him through the halls of the ship. It was beyond embarrassing, so he feigned unconsciousness. Spock wasn't fooled, but it didn't matter. When McCoy felt the bed underneath him, he took the opportunity to bolt for the door.


"It is locked," Spock said mildly.


McCoy turned and pressed his shoulders into the door. He was naked, again. Damn! "You have what you want - Kirk's balls in a vise - now let me go."


"It is not that simple." Spock sat down and crossed his legs. He appeared comfortable and composed. Bastard. "You belong to me, and you are safe here."


"I can't stay here!" McCoy looked about in horror. The place was decadent. It reeked of some nasty smell, and he hated the color - red, for blood. "Now that the information is gone, Kirk won't bother with me."


"Perhaps in time, I will ascertain that fact and allow you to return to your quarters, but I have a responsibility to you now." Spock stood up in a lazy fashion. "You may sleep or work on your files. Choose."


McCoy lowered his head. "I want clothes."


"My people are bringing your things, but clothes will not protect you from me, if I decide that I want you." Spock put his hand on his knife. "Kneel."


"No." McCoy shook his head frantically. He wasn't in pain, not much. The hypospray had no power over him. He could use a drink, but that was normal. "Not unless I get some whiskey."


"Your days of drinking are over." Spock took another step. "You will kneel and swear fealty to me."


"What does it matter? You've sworn to protect me." McCoy grinned. That had worked out pretty well. Once Kirk got over this, McCoy would be sitting pretty. "I owe you nothing."


Spock suddenly looked dangerous. "I agree, based on the fact that your life is worth nothing. You have squandered it, but you serve me now. You serve me."


McCoy swallowed hard. This just kept coming around to bite him in the ass. He could bend to Spock's will and live, or die. There didn't seem to be any middle ground. "I could tell the captain about his precious Gary."


"And do you think he'd believe you?" Spock's eyes narrowed. "He'd laugh and kill you."


Damn. Spock was right. McCoy put up a hand to fend off the Vulcan. "No man deserves what you did to him."


"He did." Spock was close enough to lean against McCoy's trembling hand, but he didn't.


McCoy considered that. He hadn't been aboard yet. It was possible. "I still hate Vulcans and you especially."


"Illogical, but we will work on that another day." Spock was about through waiting, it was obvious. McCoy gulped and knelt, fast before he changed his mind. His oath would mean nothing. Spock had to know that. Spock's hand captured McCoy's face in a painful grip.


Swear your allegiance to me and mine!


McCoy tried to squirm away. He tried to duck. He tried to punch. All his motions were stopped, and he was forced to quit struggling. The grip on his mind punished, and he began to sweat.


I see your deceptions, but it is futile.


McCoy screamed as his mind was twisted, shaken, and ripped in half. Stop!


You are almost as sweet as your counterpart. His screams were delightful.


No! No! No!




McCoy wrapped his hands around Spock's claw. I'll do as you say, but stop! Stop! And he collapsed face down on the floor. Spock's boots were under him. Spock had released him or he'd be there yet, twisting in a hell of Spock's making. McCoy clutched his chest and moaned. "Please. No more."


"Perhaps." Spock nudged him. "You will sleep. I will listen to you scream later."


McCoy lay still. He didn't have the strength to move. His brain hurt. "Whatever you say," he mumbled. "Can I have a drink?"


Spock put a hand on McCoy's naked ass. "It has been thirteen months since I mated."


"Off!" McCoy scrambled away, crawled on the bed, and got under the covers. "You're a sadistic bastard."


Spock walked over to him and lifted his hand. "If you insult my mother again, I will beat you until your only thought is of death, and I will not allow it."


McCoy's mind clanged with shock. He shook his head fast. "Never again. Never."


"A wise decision - your first. Tomorrow, you will return to work. Sleep and then finish the files." Spock reached and twisted McCoy's nipple. "We will mate later."


McCoy hid his face and prayed the savage Vulcan would find another playmate, soon. The door swooshed shut, and he stayed on the bed. The door was locked. There was no escape, not right now. Perhaps later, in sickbay, he could cook something up. He heard another door open. The bathroom?


"Spock put you right to work," Kirk said. "Good for him."


McCoy sat up to face the captain. "Captain." One word and it squeaked from him.


"I'd kill you without blinking, but I want to listen to your screams as Spock punishes you." Kirk grinned. "Spock saved your ass, so he could fuck it!"


"No," McCoy whispered, even though he didn't doubt it. "I'll kill him."


Kirk wrenched McCoy from the bed and tossed him against the bulkhead. McCoy landed hard. He lay there for an instant, stunned, before staggering up to run. A hard right cross leveled him. Kirk pulled him to his feet and shook him.


"My son's life is now riding on that damn Vulcan. You'll keep him happy and healthy, or I'll kill you very slowly. I understand that swallowing an agonizer will do it - after you scream for three or four days."


McCoy cowered, and Kirk put him on his knees. "Captain, please. I never betrayed you!"


"Who cares? You sucked up to that nicey Vulcan, and you pushed me too far with your blackmail scheme. It's time for you to take it hard up the ass." Kirk grabbed McCoy's hair and twisted. "I'd fuck you, but you're Spock's property, and he takes that seriously." He tapped McCoy's face.


"What?" McCoy felt his face. There was a mark. What?


"Spock branded you. You belong to his house. T'Pau - remember the old bitch? I'm not crossing her." Kirk laughed loudly. "Spock won the day, but I'm still the captain. Things will turn around again. They always do."


McCoy covered his face and sobbed. He hadn't understood, and it was too damn late. Kirk shoved him down and left through the bathroom door. McCoy didn't try to get up. He lay there and wept bitterly for all he'd lost. All of his life and everything he'd been was gone. There was nothing left. He pulled his knees up to his chest and stared at the wall. Sleep dropped over him.




"Incoming message, Captain," Uhura said firmly.


"Put it on the main screen." Kirk made a motion with his hand, and Spock turned from his console.


"Captain, the Empire appreciates your patience in this matter." Admiral Komack stared out at them. "The difficulty lies in jurisdiction. Please remain in orbit another two days. You will receive word by then. Komack out."


"Great," Kirk snarled. He turned his chair. "Spock, compile another report and send it to the admiral. Perhaps it will help them make up their minds before I go stark raving mad!"




"Not far to go," Sulu whispered to Chekov.


Kirk took the small step that allowed him to slap Sulu hard. Sulu smiled.




McCoy struggled to sit up. Kirk always threw a nasty punch, and McCoy could feel the inflammation and clotted blood on his cheek - the one without a brand.


"Will you sleep on the floor in the future?"


McCoy didn't turn to face him. "I might." His voice was reedy and thin. He hurt, again, and he hated it. He didn't try to stand. "I think I'd rather die than face this future."


"Death is permanent. The future is fluid."


McCoy licked his dry and cracked lips. He should get up and fight until Spock killed him, but it was all gone from him. "I would like to shower, please." He sounded like a weakling, and he didn't care one damn bit.


Spock was in front of him, pulling him up. "The captain was here."


"Yes." McCoy simply hung in Spock's arms. There was nothing to say. All his decisions would be made for him. Spock had branded him, and he'd consented to it. Nurse Chapel had even witnessed it. Under Vulcan law, McCoy belonged to Spock, and the Empire wouldn't argue with them - no one did.


Spock's eyes never left McCoy's face. "You have realized the truth."


"I have." McCoy stopped there. He should have fought harder sooner, or destroyed Kirk's future because it would have been easy, but all that was over now. Spock released him, and he knelt because his legs refused to hold him. McCoy shuddered. There was nothing left to do but take the oath and seal his life to Spock's. "I swear fealty to you and your house."


"Excellent. The captain persuaded you to give your oath where I could not. Perhaps that is why he's the captain." Spock went to the computer. "Shower and then return here."


McCoy crawled to the wall and managed to get up. He went through the bathroom door and stared. Luxury and they shared it. It didn't make any sense to him, but it didn't matter. A muffled grunt made him look, and Barrows blinked at him from where Kirk had restrained her. She spread her legs in clear invitation, but McCoy turned his back on her and went to the mirror. His face. His face. He staggered to the shower and turned the water on full blast. It felt so good, and he watched it stream off his bruised body. He was still a doctor, a damn good one, when he cared enough, but it was no comfort at all. Finally, he shut off the water and toweled dry carefully. His face hurt though it could have been worse. He went back to Spock's room and waited.


Spock came over to him, and McCoy breathed a sigh of relief when the hypospray released inside him. "Thank you."


"There will be food shortly. Your clothes have been put there." Spock pointed. "You smell much better."


McCoy eased out a long breath as the narcotic washed through him. It felt so good. He was still exhausted and hungry, but he didn't hurt. Getting dressed would take energy, and he didn't have it right now, so he fumbled over to the desk and sat in front of the computer. "I'll work."


Spock said nothing. The silence was full of short breaths and a small amount of fear on McCoy's part. McCoy shut his eyes and tried to focus. Sickbay had been quiet lately, but there had been a death among his staff. Nurse O'Hara had died of traumatic injuries - a blow to her head. "You killed my nurse." He spoke softly.


"The captain was furious with you. Your nurse was a casualty of that anger." Spock didn't care. His voice held no trace of emotion. Of course, it rarely did.


"Her father is a senator." McCoy put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. "If he finds out, the captain will be fined, at the very least."


Spock came to McCoy's side. "That would be unfortunate."


McCoy refused to try to figure out if Spock were serious. Instead, he worked on organizing the last of the reports. Food arrived before he was finished, and his stomach grumbled. Food would be nice. Spock might feed him. McCoy watched hopefully, and Spock gestured to the other chair at a table that had been placed in a nook where the old bathroom had been.


Spock began to eat, and McCoy followed suit. There was coffee, and McCoy drank it gratefully. He ate until he had to stop or vomit. Spock watched him, but said nothing. The situation was unnerving, almost surreal. What did Spock want from him? Had the chip been enough? McCoy tried to find out. "Am I really going to live here?"




"Kirk could come through that door and beat me whenever he wants."


"It will be his choice." Spock seemed to shrug. "If it keeps him from other activities, I will allow it."


McCoy rubbed his face. He was going to live in hatred and fear, but hadn't he always? "Is there anything I could say or do to change your mind?"


"No." Spock sipped his tea. "Vulcans often have pets. You will require more maintenance than a tribble, but I will adjust."


"And you wonder why I hate Vulcans." McCoy edged his chair back. "I'll go back to work."


"You will dress, clean off the table, and then you will work." Spock stood and loomed over him. McCoy should have argued, but it would be so foolish. There was no place to go with this brand on his face. No haven. He could kill himself; that was his only option.


"At least I don't have to lick your boots." A tiny defiance.


Spock raised his eyebrow. "There is always later."


"Damn you," McCoy muttered and went to dress. He threw on the first clothes that he found. It didn't matter. He piled everything on the tray and looked at the door. Leaving even for a few minutes would feel good. It opened for him, and he went towards the turbolift. He walked slowly and ignored the looks of pity that he received. No one on this ship wanted to be in his boots. Scotty and Uhura were in the rec room, and they looked at him when he put everything in the recycler.


McCoy got himself some coffee and dropped into a chair at their table. "How are you two holding up?"


Scotty looked at him warily. "Better than you."


Uhura put a hand on Scotty's arm. "We'll be fine."


"I'm glad to hear it." McCoy didn't care if they doubted him; it was true. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Chekov needs to die."


Scotty smiled. "Accidents do happen in Engineering."


There was a long moment of silence, and McCoy knew that Scotty had a plan.


"I wonder what's happening on the other Enterprise," Uhura said softly.


McCoy had the damn answer to that. "They're sitting around thanking their gods that they're not here."


"We are a sorry lot of puir bastards." Scotty squeezed Uhura's hand.


McCoy nodded, picked up his coffee, and left before he got two people that he liked in trouble with Spock. Instead of going to sickbay and choking Nurse Chapel to death, McCoy went back to Spock's quarters. Spock wasn't there, and it was a relief. McCoy sat down at the computer, started to work, and drank his coffee. He finished quickly and made a few notes. Tomorrow, he'd check on his hidden supply of brandy, perhaps Nurse Chapel hadn't found it.


"Have you completed the task I set for you?"


McCoy nodded. He'd made up his mind to talk as little as possible. It might keep him from another dozen bruises or so. The Vulcan stared at him until McCoy wanted to squirm in his seat.


"Come kneel in front of me."


"Do I have to?" McCoy didn't stand up, not yet.


"You do." Spock made no aggressive moves, but he would. McCoy dragged himself over to him and knelt. He might as well get used to it, but he still hadn't decided if he'd rather die. Spock produced a regenerator from somewhere and ran it over McCoy's face. "Remain still."


McCoy held still. This was a small kindness, and from the Vulcan, it was unexpected. He should thank him, but since it was all Spock's fault, he refused to do it.


Spock caught him by the chin and moved the regenerator to another location. "You're a disgrace to my family in this condition, but the brand is permanent."


"I could always cut off my cheek." McCoy wouldn't, but he could and get a skin graft.


"I do not recommend that action." Spock pulled the regenerator away from him. "I would be displeased."


McCoy began to wonder if Spock had put a locator chip inside him. Rotten Vulcan. This was a good time to practice being quiet, and McCoy remained on his knees. Spock pulled him up and pushed him towards the bed. "Undress. You will sleep and then report for first shift."


"Good." McCoy folded his arms across his chest. He glanced at an empty corner. "I'll sleep in the corner."


The Vulcan moved quickly and stripped McCoy of his clothes. McCoy gasped and came to a fresh understanding of his new life. It was going to be wretched. Spock put him on the bed with an iron hand around McCoy's throat. "How long will you fight me?"


McCoy didn't want to estimate, but not much longer if Spock killed him with his cock. Spock released him and went away. McCoy shut his eyes and prayed the Vulcan would stay away - forever. Sleep didn't seem possible, but it happened, and he didn't wake until someone heavy rolled on top of him. His first thought was to fight like hell, and then he remembered where he was and didn't bother.


"Are you in pain?"


McCoy didn't have to ponder that answer. "Yes."


Spock ran his hand down McCoy's body. "I repulse you."


"Yes." Again. The truth. McCoy shuddered and hated the firm touch. His legs begged him to run, but he held himself very still. Spock might grow bored and go away.


Spock's hand melded to McCoy's face with his palm directly over the brand. I want to know why.


Out! McCoy screamed inside his mind. It wouldn't do any good, and he felt Spock slipping through his memories - all of them. No. Please. He tried to struggle, but he was pinned. He panted and squirmed, all to no avail.


"Fascinating." Spock released him and sat up. McCoy curled and put his arms over his head. There was nowhere to hide in this universe. "You were conditioned to hate all non-Humans, and Vulcans in particular, by the Empire. The Vulcan Council will need this information."


McCoy didn't care. "Leave me alone."


"You are a wealth of information." Spock pulled McCoy's arms down, and McCoy gasped. Spock captured him again by the face. "I will remove it."


"No!" McCoy found energy to fight, but it ended quickly. Stop! Stop!


You will be much more pliable this way. And Spock gave McCoy's brain a twist. McCoy felt every muscle in his body tense, and he slumped down. Blackness spread over him.




"Fucked him to death?"


Spock covered the doctor's body and faced the captain. "His fear caused him to lose consciousness."


"What a sex life you're going to have!" Kirk laughed and leaned against the doorjamb. "He will go back to work tomorrow."


"And he will perform much more efficiently." Spock nodded. "This ship needs a competent doctor."


"Yes, but we're used to McCoy." Kirk removed the towel from around his hips and dried his hair again. "I didn't fuck him."


"I'm aware of that. You have my thanks." Spock went to his computer and sat down. Kirk shrugged and the door shut to the sound of a woman screaming. Spock sat quietly.




Pain was his new friend, and it never seemed to leave him. He clutched his head and moaned. "Help?" He knew he wouldn't get it. Hot hands branded themselves on his chest.


"Do you hurt?"


McCoy groaned and opened his eyes to face Spock. The instant spurt of hatred didn't materialize. Why not? Spock moved his hand to cover McCoy's brand. McCoy didn't recoil. He waited to be punished, and when it didn't happen, his eyes widened in surprise. Spock gentled a hand over him, and McCoy let out a shaky breath.


"Will you torture me?"


Spock's fingers skipped and stroked over McCoy's body. "Serve me and my cause well, and I will reward you with extreme pleasure."


McCoy didn't believe a damn word of it. His reward would be a shallow grave on a planet somewhere or a quick push out an airlock. He didn't dare try to shove Spock away, so he lay there and took it. Spock spread McCoy's legs and dipped his fingers over and down. McCoy took a ragged breath. "You're playing with me."


Spock's eyes seem to bore into McCoy's skin. "You have had intercourse with other males. You don't fear it."


"I fear you." McCoy felt breathless. His body responded to the hands, even though his mind thought it was a damn fool idea. "And nearly every part of me hurts."


Spock lowered his head, and the hair from his beard brushed over McCoy's nipples. McCoy had no idea where to put his hands, and he hesitatingly settled them on Spock's shoulders. The touch wasn't revolting. Spock's skin was firm, smooth, and almost slick. Spock looked at him. "Human women do not interest me."


"I bet they will all be glad to hear that, even though Nurse Chapel will be devastated," McCoy quipped. He regretted it when Spock took on a dangerous look.


"I don't understand humor. It would do you well to remember that." Spock sat back on the bed and pulled McCoy's ass into his lap. McCoy draped his legs around Spock's body and stared in wonder. Spock touched McCoy's cock, and it leaked. "Fluid. Does it taste good?"


McCoy couldn't manage a single word as Spock swiped a finger through the pre-cum and tasted it. If Spock had spat it out, McCoy wouldn't have been surprised, but the Vulcan went back for more. McCoy felt his face blush, and he put his hand on his thighs. "Bad?"


"Salty. Interesting." Spock fisted McCoy's now fully erect cock. "Does it grow any larger?"


"Slightly, when I orgasm, but that's about it." McCoy felt like a science experiment. "No one has ever complained."


"The captain is larger."


"He's the captain."


"True." Spock stroked McCoy's cock with a firm, but not harsh, hand, and McCoy bit back a groan. McCoy had expected to be thrown down and ass raped, not teased and licked. He didn't know what to think or feel, but his cock was pleased about the situation. Spock nudged McCoy's balls. "Did I injure your gonads when I kicked you?"


McCoy groaned loudly as Spock lifted and rolled them gently. "We'll know when I come."


Spock produced a tube of lubricant and squirted it inside McCoy's ass. McCoy made a noise that sounded ridiculous, but it had been a surprise. He tensed. Spock wouldn't wait much longer, but he did - another surprise.


"The prostate gland gives pleasure, correct?"


"Yes," McCoy hissed. He began to forget his aches and pains, but Spock would hurt him, repeatedly. "I think you'll hurt me."


"Pleasure can be as addicting as alcohol or drugs." Spock's voice was deep, and McCoy quivered from a fear that had nothing to do with pain. A finger nudged its way deep inside him, and McCoy lifted his legs slightly. Spock gave him a look. "Are you still afraid?"


"Yes." McCoy couldn't deny it. Pleasure nipped at him, but fear was there also.


Spock inserted another finger and went much deeper. McCoy groaned. The thought that he was being prepared for Spock's huge cock worried him, but this felt good and pushed the pain away. McCoy saw him reach for something. It was the hypospray, and he was glad to see it. It would take the last of the pain away, but Spock didn't press it into McCoy's inner thigh, which was close. Spock lifted McCoy's balls up high, and McCoy arched his back. Now the pain would start. He felt a push, and he stared in amazement as Spock slid the hypospray deep inside him.


McCoy yelped, and Spock discharged the hypospray. "Spock!" It was better than whiskey, Romulan Ale, and brandy all rolled into one, and it roared up him. He drowned in a delirium of ecstasy. Thrashing about, he moaned when the hypospray pulled out. "More!"


Spock pushed McCoy back onto his shoulders and thrust. McCoy howled and shook. Any thoughts of pain, death, or fear were gone. He liked this and wanted more. More!


Spock nipped McCoy on the neck. "I can kill you."


"I'll die happy," McCoy gasped. He shoved up. Spock grunted and moved in a regular rhythm. McCoy yelled at him to go faster, but Spock ignored that. Spock's cock was huge; it seemed to flare inside McCoy's ass, and it felt so damn good. McCoy grabbed at Spock, held him tight, and orgasmed hard between them. The cock in his ass swelled; he saw stars, and he collapsed down. Spock did some things, but McCoy didn't care what. Sweet pleasure strummed through his veins, and he caressed Spock without thinking.


"Sleep," Spock said.


McCoy sighed with satisfaction and shut his eyes. He felt good.




McCoy was alone when he woke up, and he stretched before assessing the damage. He didn't feel half-bad, and he suspected that Spock had let him have another shot of narcotic. Rolling over, he checked the chronometer. He had enough time for a shower before his shift started. Before he approached the bathroom door, he ascertained with the computer that Kirk was on the bridge. Quickly, McCoy went to the shower and wallowed in the luxury of the water. He'd earned it. Finished, he dressed in his uniform and looked at himself in the mirror. He was thin, and the red brand on his face was startling, but he was alive, and that had been in a doubt more than once the last few days.


Red Alert! All hands to battle stations! Red Alert!


McCoy went out the door at a quick march. He took charge of the sickbay immediately, and it gave him extreme pleasure to slap Nurse Chapel hard enough to send her to the floor. That small job finished, he went to work. By the time the casualties arrived, they were ready, and he worked steadily, pushing aside his lingering exhaustion and his hunger. His hands didn't shake, and he found a new level of compassion for the poor assholes that fell through his door.




"He passed out." Kirk made a rude noise. "How many of my crew died because he was weak?"


"According to Nurse Chapel, there were no fatalities." Spock paused. "He has performed well."


"I can hear you fellas," McCoy said and raised his head off the desk. He'd slept in worse places, like Spock's bed. He opened a drawer and took out a Feinberger. Quickly, he ran it over Kirk and Spock. "Captain, your forearm is cracked."


"I thought it ached," Kirk said with a grimace.


"On the bio bed." McCoy pointed. "Spock, you're fine."


"Of course I am." Spock moved out of the way, and McCoy escorted Kirk to the bio bed and repaired the arm. Spock watched closely. "When you are finished here, you will return to my quarters."


McCoy shrugged and gave Kirk a mild narcotic. Kirk grabbed him by the face. "Poison?"


"Not this time," McCoy said, smiled, and wrenched his face away. "I work for the House of T'Pau now, and she expects the best. Remember her?"


Spock made an odd noise, and Kirk simply glared. McCoy finished the arm and went to check his other patients. They were wary of him, but he pretended not to notice. Kirk and Spock went out together, and McCoy worked until he could no longer see straight. His secret supply of brandy was gone, and he didn't dare concoct a drug. Nurse Chapel would tell Spock immediately.


"Are you headed to Spock's quarters?" Nurse Chapel smirked.


"Yes. Are you jealous?" McCoy could tell that she was. "Keep an eye on Gomez. If he dies, I want to harvest his organs."


Nurse Chapel glared at him. "I'll keep watch."


McCoy took a good look around. This sickbay needed some work. When did it get so filthy? He stepped out of the turbolift and leaned against the wall for a moment. Exhaustion and lack of food forced him to do it. When he faced Spock's door, he paused, and his shoulders slumped. Was he going to do this?


"You are going inside."


McCoy whirled in surprise and fear. "Spock!"


"Indeed." Spock opened the door. McCoy went inside before he was shoved. Spock followed him and used sheer intimidation to corner him. Breath coming hard, McCoy waited for his beating. Spock put his hands on McCoy's shoulders and lowered his head. Their lips brushed, and McCoy shut his eyes. He was so tired. Spock whispered, "You did well today. The House of T'Pau is pleased."


McCoy relaxed in abject relief, and it was a mistake. He fell asleep.




"Collapsed again?" Kirk walked right inside Spock's quarters.


Spock removed McCoy's shirt, boots, and trousers before rolling him under the covers. "He is still weak from the beatings and lack of food."


"You're not going to kill him." Kirk rubbed his face. "Well, I'll allow you to keep him here, but only because his work was good today."


"Thank you. He is becoming a doctor again, and we require one." Spock went to a cabinet and pulled out a decanter. "Brandy?"


"Yes." Kirk took his drink. "That's it for the Halkans. We'll proceed to Starbase Four and give Scotty some time to make a few repairs."


"It is regrettable, but there was no way to prevent the Klingons from destroying the planet. If they couldn't secure the dilithium crystals for themselves, they preferred it destroyed." Spock sipped his brandy slowly. "The doorway to the mirror universe is closed."


"I prefer this universe anyway!" Kirk slugged his drink back. "I'm going to sleep. You keep an eye on the bridge."


"Aye, Captain." Spock went over to McCoy and put a hand on his forehead. "Sleep. Heal.



McCoy woke up slowly. He was still tired, and he rubbed his sticky eyes. Food. He could smell food. And he was starved.


"Come kneel in front of me."


McCoy quivered at the soft, deep voice. He should fight, protest, or run, but he would serve the House of T'Pau, and his service would protect him. With only a trace amount of fear in his heart, he eased from the bed and knelt in front of Spock. Spock was at the computer, waiting. McCoy took a deep breath. He could do this.


"You have chosen to serve."


"I have. It's better than being pushed out an airlock." McCoy touched his brand. It was permanent.


"I am pleased." Spock put his hand on McCoy's. "Do I repel you?"


"No." McCoy told the truth. The disgust was gone.


"Kiss my boot and go eat." Spock's eyes glinted.


McCoy could see that Spock would push the obedience until he saw where McCoy cracked. "I am hungry." He kissed Spock's boot and went to eat. The food was mostly protein, and McCoy ate all he could. It would give him energy to face whatever was coming his way. Spock was suddenly there, pulling him up. McCoy managed a lop-sided smile. "Thank you."


Spock lifted McCoy's face by the chin. "Where is the hatred?"


"Gone. You're not so bad." McCoy shrugged. "I need a drink."


"No." Spock shook his head. "I have need of a doctor, not a drunk."


McCoy didn't waste time wishing for the old days. The old days hadn't been that good. "I have patients."


"You will work the next shift. It begins in three hours." Spock pulled him towards the bed. "We will mate now."


McCoy hoped it would feel as good as the first time. Spock put him on his stomach. McCoy quivered when sizzling hands spread his ass cheeks. He felt his cock fill with blood, and he groaned.


"You desire this?"


McCoy bit his lip before nodding. He tried to relax as Spock touched him intimately and repeatedly. It felt so good, and he wanted more. "Spock, let me undress you."


Spock let him up, and McCoy worked efficiently. McCoy hadn't really seen Spock's cock erect, but it wasn't anything to be frightened of, even if it was large. There were no spikes, tentacles or anything truly bizarre. The ridge flared when he touched it, and he found himself on his knees, licking it. Spock let out a breathy moan, and McCoy looked up. Their eyes met, and McCoy understood Spock a little better. Spock was a Vulcan, and they were all mean, but it wasn't what he wanted in his bed, unlike Kirk, who was just a bastard all the time.


McCoy sucked and licked it. Spock held him by the head and pushed until McCoy's throat opened. McCoy tried to take it all, but it wasn't possible, not this time. He wrapped his hands around Spock's ass and squeezed.


"You are enjoying this!"


McCoy pulled his mouth off. "Would you rather I fight and cry?"


Spock pulled him up by his hair and tossed him on his stomach. McCoy made sure his cock wasn't pinched, and he tried to relax. He winced when Spock smacked him on the ass, but it wasn't serious.


"I did expect resistance."


"You shouldn't have made it so much fun the first time." McCoy found the lube and tossed it back. He gasped when it squirted up his ass. Spock's fingers followed quickly, and McCoy shoved back greedily. "Who taught you the hypospray trick?"


"There are few secrets aboard an Empire vessel." Spock inserted his cock and pressed. McCoy went ahead and yelled about it. It was a damn big cock. He reached back, and Spock captured the wrist. "Shall I break it again?"


McCoy could barely think with his ass that full. He panted and whimpered before managing, "Damn. You're big."


Spock fucked him. It was harder than the first time, and it was hard enough to make McCoy yell once or twice. His head did stay on his shoulders, but only just, and he spurted come on the bed sheets - twice. Lassitude spread over him, and his ass was still getting pounded. Spock leaned and whispered, "I need you to scream once, very loudly."


McCoy rolled his eyes and let out a piercing scream. People on the bridge probably heard it. Spock's seed filled McCoy's ass as the scream died away, and McCoy tucked the pillow under his head. He was tired again. "Did you get all your inches inside this time?"


"Not yet. We will try again later." Spock slipped away. "I will take a shower."


McCoy fell asleep fast.




"I heard your new pet screaming." Kirk smiled and rubbed his crotch.


Spock shut off the water and reached for a towel. "He seemed pleased."


"That's one way to look at it." Kirk laughed.




McCoy picked up his sticky body and stumbled to Spock's boots. Kneeling, he asked softly, "May I have a shower?"


"Yes. Captain Kirk is on the bridge." Spock stroked a slow hand through McCoy's hair. McCoy didn't try to get up. He sat there and breathed. Spock slipped his thumb across the brand on McCoy's face. "I have plans."


McCoy remembered something Spock had said. "Plans to further your cause?"


"Yes." Spock turned to face him. "I am going to summon the future."


McCoy thought about that for a minute. It didn't make much sense. "Need a doctor to help?"


"I do. With you and the Tantalus, I can't fail." Spock's lips lifted in a rough approximation of a smile, but it was Spock at his deadliest. "Go shower before your shift."


McCoy went without further chitchat. He wouldn't think about whatever a Tantalus was. It didn't matter; all that mattered was Spock. He reveled in the water and washed thoroughly. Today, he was going to clean up his sickbay. People who were healed were often grateful, and Spock would need allies. McCoy smiled. Perhaps, tomorrow, he and Spock could have breakfast together.




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